


An Ever-Fixed Mark

by LastNightFanfictionSavedMyLife



Series: Of Romance and Love [3]
Category: Land Girls (TV)
Genre: Adult Age Gap Romance, Age Difference, An OC who strongly channels Nanny Ogg energy, Angst, Eventual Romance, Evil tractor redemption, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Hairy chest is hairy, Humour, Idiots in Love, Innocence, Land Girls, Love Confessions, Mentions of Rape, Mentions of Violence, Older Man/Younger Woman, Silver Fox, Slow Build, Threats of Violence, What to do in church if you're bored, World War II, kissed by fire, like major angst, nothing graphic, they travel in packs, watch out for the chairs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:15:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 30,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26683543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LastNightFanfictionSavedMyLife/pseuds/LastNightFanfictionSavedMyLife
Summary: Iris: "What if he does come back for me?"Frank: "Well if he does, I'll be there won't I."What happened to Iris and Frank after series 3 ended? He promised to be there for her didn't he? But will Frank keep his promise?A Frank Tucker and Iris Dawson pairing. This beautiful, sweet, unknown (except to me of course!) pairing are the inspiration for all my writing. They are my muses.A Land girls story. The BBC TV series, not the film. Set after series 3 ended and continuing on from there.This story will be made up of several chapters, as they come to me. Each one a separate step on their way to becoming an established and loving couple.Title is from Shakespeare's Sonnet CXVI.Alright Bambinos, please read and enjoy!Kudos and Comments always greatly appreciated.(P.s. the screenshot in chapter 6 is my ABSOLUTE favourite. Paul Ritter is an absolute silver fox. 🤭 I mean, just look at him! *Phew*)
Relationships: Frank Tucker/Iris Dawson
Series: Of Romance and Love [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1943830
Comments: 6
Kudos: 3





	1. A Promise Kept

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is Frank really moving out?

Frank had only been to the 'big house' a few times. Once to report a possible German spy on her ladyship's land. _Maybe this summons was to do with that?_ But he'd already told Lady Hoxley everything he knew about that. He frowned. _Maybe they wanted him to sign something_ , seeing as he never did the first time? He'd just given her a verbal report that time.

He braced himself as he went into the room where Lady Hoxley was waiting, according to the maid.

It didn't turn out to be a long visit. But it was certainly a life-changing one for him. His head was spinning as he left.

-

He'd never been in _actual_ charge before. Not of a _whole_ farm anyway. Well that was a lie, he'd been in charge, but never with the added responsibility of being in _charge_ charge he conceded. He'd told her ladyship that he'd been a farm hand, mostly. Going farm to farm, travelling where the work was, where he was needed. He also indulged in some poaching for some extra money, _not that her Ladyship needed to know about that of course_. But she, rightly, said that the farm needed someone to take over, now that Vernon Storey had vanished after killing his son.

She pointed out that he knew the farm better than anyone, she motioned to the account books on her desk at that point. He'd been in charge of doing them since he'd been released from jail. She'd told him that everything was more in order now, than under Vernon Storey's care according to those. He'd sent them to her last week to go over, to check his calculations.

She told him that, by her thinking, he was the perfect man for the job. He would have a probationary period and, if she was satisfied, would become the permanent tenant farmer. She now handed the same account books back to him, without waiting for him to actually say 'yes'.

 _Typical aristo_ , assuming that they'll get what they wanted. But she was right, he had to agree, he _was_ the best man for the job. And the extra money in his wage packet certainty wouldn't go amiss!

-

He'd paused on his walk back to Finch's farm. He needed to think. He wasn't sure how Iris would react to his moving out.

In the few weeks between his release from prison and Connie's wedding, their relationship had shifted. She'd been the one to figure out that Vernon had killed his son, and was framing Frank for murder. She'd saved him from the noose, saved his life. He'd be eternally grateful to her for that. But in exposing Vernon's cruel plot, she'd put herself in danger. Vernon had gone on the run, but before he had, he'd threatened to find her. 

Iris had stuck close to him between then and now, ever fearful of Vernon's return. They'd become so used to each other's company now because of this. Become comfortable in each others presence. Him moving to the Storey farm would change this happiness.

He could still look out for her, still be there for her, that wouldn't change, but he wondered if their friendship would drift apart with their physical closeness being altered.

He'd always been a loner since a boy. Drifting from farm to farm, from job to job, going where the work was. The only constant in his life was his brother, Dennis. 

Which reminded him, he needed to find his brother. He'd sent messages to all the places he thought he'd be, but had heard nothing back.

He'd never had a friend, no one to talk to about small things or big things, no one to smile at and share anything with. No one to teach all his wisdom to, or to learn from himself. No one to care for, if they were injured. And no one to worry about his hurts. He was shunned on his return to Helmstead. His name linked to his brother's deeds. Iris was his first friend here since then, his return. Since ever really. She was the first to take the time to talk to him. The first to trust him. 

He'd become so used to their friendship now. He wasn't sure he could go back to being that loner anymore.

He needed to figure something out. He'd go back and pack his things, then go and find her and talk to her. They'd figure this out together, just as they always did now.

-

Out in the fields, Iris saw Martin run over. He stopped in front of her panting and catching his breath.

"Hey Iris" he paused for breath. "I've just come from home, I saw Frank packing his stuff up. You're close to him, do you know why he's leaving?"

Iris felt her stomach drop. She doesn't stop to answer Martin. She ran all the way back from the field to the farmhouse, apprehension and fear sped her along.

It couldn't be true. _Frank had promised_. She was scared of Vernon returning, that was true. But her greater fear was of Frank leaving the village, leaving her.

She knew his past was spent moving from village to village, from job to job, going where the work was. _Had he found another job?_ She frowned, that couldn't be true, they'd all been extra busy recently. With the loss of Walter and his father having vanished, Frank had taken on the running of the Storey farm as well. She wondered if it was something to do with his visit to the Manor house this morning? _Was lady Hoxley moving him?_ He'd spent hours in the evening going over the Storey farm's account books as her Ladyship had asked him to check for inconsistencies there.

She'd grown so fond of his company, she felt safe in their friendship, she'd never felt so safe before. They'd become closer over the past few weeks since his release from prison. They'd been close before, he'd been the first to see her potential, to believe in her. But something had shifted, their friendship becoming something more. She wasn't sure yet of what that 'more' was though.

She'd always been wary of men before. But not Frank. His temper still worried her, but she trusted him to not hurt her. She trusted him like no one she'd known before. If he left, who would she have to talk to, to learn from, to confide in?

No, she needed to find him and talk him out of leaving.

-

She ran up to Frank's room, out of breath, dreading what she'd see. She paused at his open door. Watching him pack his things.

"It's true then!" she shouted accusingly. "You _are_ leaving!"

She felt her fists clench in anger, felt her face grow hot. She stepped towards him. He stopped his packing and stood, watching her.

"You said you'd be there for me!" Her voice rose angrily. "You lied to me!"

She's shouting now, she didn't care who was listening.

"Iris! Calm down!"

She's not listening though. She's shaking with anger, shaking her head, not wanting to know, wanting to run and find a place to hole up in and cry. He stopped her running away by placing his hands upon her forearms. Holding her in place to get her to stop and just _listen_.

"Stop! Iris stop! What are you talking about?"

She turned her head and looked sadly at his things on the bed.

"You're packing up. Leaving! _Leaving me!_ "

She's frantic and sobbing now. He looked to where she'd pointed to, at his belongings, all piled up on his bed. _Oh!_ He smiled then, which seemed to anger her more and she struggled again in his gentle grip.

"No, wait, it's not like that Iris".

She's still again now, resigned.

"You're packing up and leaving me all alone."

She isn't shouting any more, instead she's sobbing sadly. Her arms sagged and her head dropped.

"Wait, no. Iris, listen to me, stop it. I'm not going anywhere."

He dropped his head to try and catch her eyes, to get her to look at him. But she turned her head away, instead staring at his half done packing.

"But... but you are, why else would you be packing your things?"

"Please. Just calm down and listen to me."

He's still holding her arms, so he squeezed them gently. He knows that she's a timid thing, didn't like shouting and shied from violence. It's something he meant to talk to her about at some point.

" _Listen_!" It's him now raising his voice. She looked up at that. Now he has her attention, he caught her eyes at last.

"I'm only going across the way to the Storey farmhouse. Lady Hoxley has put me in charge there, because Storey has gone. That's what she wanted to talk to me about, up at the Manor."

Her eyes go wide and her mouth forms an 'O'. She's still crying, but she's smiling now too. He smiled back at her.

"Please stop crying Iris. I'm not leaving. I said I'd be here for you and I always will. That's a promise I made to you and one I intend on keeping. Ok?"

She nodded, smiling and sobbing and laughing. _Relief_! She pulled her arms free of him and threw her arms around his neck, still laughing and crying.

"I'm not going anywhere you daft thing!" he chuckled. "I was going to come and find you, to tell you, but you beat me to it!"

He hesitantly put his arms round her back. Unlike that first time when she wanted comfort with the lost lamb when, he admitted freely to himself, he hadn't a clue really about what to do. Now he's more confident in comforting her. Still not entirely sure, but he knew her better now. He held her gently, arms around her back, patting her. Murmuring to her

"There, there you silly thing."

Iris pulled away, smiling and laughing, she leant back and pulled herself out of his hug, she tried to wipe her snotty nose and eyes with her hands.

"I'm a mess!" she laughed.

"No, you're ok, nothing a little clean up won't fix" he said as he pulled a rag out of a pocket and offered it to her. She smiled. He always seemed to have one, whether to clean his greasy hands on or to wipe sweat from his brow.

"Here," he said. He offered the rag again. She took it and wiped her face dry, she tried to hand it back. He pressed it into her hands. She held it tight, like a talisman. She now noticed his soggy shirt where she'd cried on him.

"Oh! I've made a mess on you too…!"

"It's ok, I don't mind. Remember what I said though Iris." He bobbed his head and caught her eyes again. "I'll _always_ be here for you, even if it means getting a snotty shirt now and then." he smiled.

Iris laughed then at his silliness.

"There, that's better," he said. "You can help me pack, now that you're here. Make yourself useful eh?" He smiled at her and pointed to the small bedside cupboard.

"You can empty that if you like, just put the things on the bed please."

She knelt by the cupboard and opened the drawers. She put his shaving kit, a bar of soap, a flannel, towel, a box of shotgun cartridges and a ball of twine on his bed as he continued with stuffing his clothes into a haversack.

The last thing in the drawer that Iris found was a small book. _Poems._ She looked at Frank sideways, he's busy cramming more onto his sack. She opened the book and saw a handwritten note inside the cover _'to my darling Frank, from 'M' with all my love'_. She didn't say anything. He's still busy, so hadn't seen her looking at the book. But in her head she's second guessing about who is M? She put the book on the bed along with his other things.

"All empty" she said as she stood back up.

-

She walked with him, out of the farmhouse and some of the way to the Storey farm. They part ways on the lane. Him off to the Storey farm, her back up to the field she came from earlier.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" she asked.

"Of course. Got to make sure you don't get up to any mischief." He smiled and walked on down the path. He turned before he reached the bend where he would go out of sight. He raised a hand to wave. _She hadn't moved._ He had hoped that she hadn't. Hoped she'd be still watching him. He shook his head to himself. _You old fool_ he thought. But he was so desperately pleased and he smiled happily to himself as he walked on. He'd have to sort out a new name for the place he thought. No more Storeys here any more. He smiled and thought of his brother.

He'd need to speak to Iris at some point and get her thinking on a new name for his farm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frank Tucker and Iris Dawson. After watching this series and the (what I thought anyway) was a ship tease all the way through for these two characters, with no real ship... How disappointing! And, alas, nothing anywhere apart from some YouTube videos for this ship. So I rolled my sleeves up and decided to write one myself! Like you do! Will be made up of several chapters as they come to me. Warning, the FLUFF and ANGST will be strong in this one, be warned... Also, there is an age gap in this relationship. Frank is 40odd and Iris in her early 20s. So if that's not your thing, please leave it now. Set on a UK farm during WW2, so there will be mentions of those things obviously. Not my characters. Apart from the ones that are.


	2. Moving Out, Moving In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iris moves out and moves in. Some spiders are evicted.

_It's different without Frank in the farmhouse_ she thought. Iris still saw him in the fields, almost every day of course, but he's not there for breakfast, or for dinner in the evening. She knew that she received 'looks' from the other girls when she sat with him at lunchtime. He always shuffled along the seat or haybale to make room for her next to him. He always liked to share his apple or cheese with her. But she didn't care about any looks, other than his. Frank's smile as she joined him was worth everything.

The silver lining is that Iris now has her own room for the first time ever. What with Connie having moved into the vicarage after marrying and Frank moving out of course. It's brilliant! All that space! But that blessing doesn't last for long. Three new girls are due to move in tomorrow. Lady Hoxley has big plans for her farms it seems.

She's in her room now, moving her spread-out things back into her corner, when someone knocks at her door. She says to

"Come in," she shouts out, smiling widely as she sees that it's Frank popping his head around the door. She really can't help the smile that spreads on her face as she saw him.

"Frank!" she beamed.

"Hello Iris. I need your help, if you don't mind?"

She nodded happily. "You only have to ask, Frank. I'll be there to help you, no question!"

He chuckled at her eagerness.

"Lady Hoxley has asked me to inventory everything in the Storey farmhouse, to see what will be kept there and what can be handed to her spitfire charity," he explained. "Maybe you could pop round when you've time?" he asked.

"How about tomorrow after dinner?" she replied.

"Perfect!" he agreed.

-

They've just finished up. There's lots of what he called 'dust gatherers'. They can definitely all go. The dresser is emptied of all the ornaments. The walls lose their paintings. Iris thinks that she agrees with him about the paintings. _Hideous things with oversize cows and sheep and creepy Storey family portraits._ Although she likes some of the small china things. She lingers over a little lamb ornament before sighing and placing it in the 'to go' pile.

He kept all the useful things. Cutlery, crockery, glasses, a pile of old newspapers and some old empty jam jars he found at the back of a kitchen cupboard. He saw Iris looking at a china lamb and smiled to himself. He took it out of the charity box and told her to keep it. She smiled and thanked him, putting the little lamb to one side with the cutlery.

All the rest of the ornaments were wrapped in straw and put into boxes ready to be loaded onto the truck and sold for charity. Two chairs clogging up the sitting room also go, and on old rickety side table that Frank tried his best to fix, but had to admit defeat on, gets added to the truck. The old table is full of woodworm, but someone will part with some pennies for it he thought, so onto the truck it goes.

-

After they're done, they sat at the kitchen table, drinking tea, sitting in a comfortable silence as Mrs Jones bustled about with a feather duster evicting the poor spiders that were disturbed from their homes under the sink and from the dresser. She ushered the homeless things out of the door. Frank asked Iris how it's going over at the old farmhouse. She sighed in answer…

"It's ok. Its a bit of a squash now though, as more landgirls arrived yesterday."

He frowned, knowing that it'll be cramped with that many people there. He considered his next words carefully before speaking. He knew that Mrs Jones was always listening and he's not wanting any false assumptions to be made.

"You could move in here. It's a bigger house. More room. You'd only have to share with one other girl instead of three like you are now at Finch's farmhouse."

He waited…

She knew they won't exactly be alone, he's not offering anything _improper_ as it'll be just like the other place. _Busy_. Mrs Jones has already moved in to help in the dairy with making cheese and butter to sell. And also as housekeeper. Frank doesn't have time to keep the house in order as he's busy with running the entirety of the farm now. Also three other landgirls have moved in, with another two due soon.

-

So Iris ended up sharing a room after all. At the Storey's farmhouse, _no Frank's farmhouse_ she thought. But as she's near to Frank again, she didn't care one bit!


	3. One Night as I Lay On My Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mrs Jones knows things about things.

Iris decided to do some surreptitious embroidery. She has to do it furtively, mostly in her room. She wanted it to be a surprise present. She has to try and hide what she's doing from the other two girls she's sharing with, they've already teased her somewhat about the attention Frank gives her. _If they see this, then they'll be truly merciless_ she thought.

She paused in her stitching. _Does he really give her extra attention?_ _Does he single her out and talk to her more than the other girls? Does he ask her opinion on things he doesn't ask the others?_ Which reminded her, she needed to think of a new name for Frank's farm. He'd asked her to help him think of something. It can't be the 'Storey farm' any more. Not with the son dead, killed by the horrible father. And that same father missing. She shivered and hoped he'd not return, that the police will catch him soon.

She changed the subject in her head. That one too horrible to think on. She now mused on Frank and tried to think back on answering her earlier queries again.

She noted how he always liked her to sit next to him in the truck cab instead of up in the back with the others. He's still teaching her to read, although they've nearly finished the book of fairy tales he got for her to practice with. He always made time for her in doing so, she never saw him making time for the others like that. She looked at her bedside cabinet and smiled at the little china lamb. He indulged her. Her smile faded somewhat as she remembered the pet lamb, Penny, that he had given her to wean. _Poor thing._ Killed by Walter because of him and his father's hatred for Frank and Frank's brother. The poor lamb an innocent victim of the Storey's vendetta. She dragged her mind back from thinking on that unpleasantness and went back to thinking on Frank and his many kindnesses towards her.

That's why she's secretly stitching. A small kindness in return for his many towards her. She knew Mrs Jones has seen the stitching, seen what she's writing in thread upon the rag Frank gave her. But Mrs Jones didn't say anything, she just looked knowingly at Iris and smiled. Iris can hear her downstairs now singing.

Mrs Jones liked to sing. She liked the old songs. Traditional folk ones, with _meanings_. Recently she'd taken to singing one called 'One Night as I Lay on My Bed' a lot. All while having that knowing smile on her face that she seemed to reserve for Iris and Frank. Iris frowned as she continued with her stitching. _What did Mrs Jones know that I don't?_

Iris continued, this time thinking that her actions towards Frank are completely justified as he is her friend and that they had known each other long before Mrs Jones and the other girls arrived. _That must be it..._ Then she remembered how upset she was when she had thought that he was leaving... _Did I over react, do I feel more than friendship for him?_

She bit her bottom lip, worrying it as she thought of the writing in the front of Frank's poetry book. She didn't like thinking on that. _Jealousy?_ _Is that what I'm feeling? If so, then I must have feelings for him, mustn't I?_ _Does this then prove that i DO think of him as more than a friend?_

She stitched again, angry at herself, pulling and pushing the needle roughly. She knew that he didn't feel anything more than a friendship for her, so she needed to push any silly thoughts away. Even as she puts everything she has into stitching his name into the rag... The rag he gave her. She's determined to finish it tonight so that she can gift it to him first thing tomorrow.

-

She saw him in the yard the next morning as he was headed back from the barn and quickly ran over to him as he walked towards the farmhouse kitchen. Iris shyly pushed the rag into his hands.

"What's this?" asked Frank as he looked down at his hands and what she had thrust into them. _It's my rag!_ He saw something on it and spread it open to see. It's his name, surrounded by small daisies. All done in neat embroidery.

"It's for you", she said, "It's to say sorry for making your shirt soggy and for being such a good friend to me."

Then she smiled, wringing her hands awkwardly and then just upped and ran away, off to the fields to start work.

Frank stared at the rag then stared at her running... He smiled. He put the rag into his pocket and shook his head to himself. _You're a silly old fool Frank Tucker if you think she likes you the way you like her._

Mrs Jones is at the kitchen sink, looking out of the window into the yard. She'd seen the exchange and smiled knowingly at Frank. She started singing…

-

One night as I lay on my bed  
I dreamed about a pretty maid  
Love so oppressed  
I could take no rest  
Love did torment me so  
So away to my true love I did go  
And when I came to my love's window  
I boldly called her by her name  
For your sweet sake  
I'm come here this late  
Through this bitter frost and snow  
So open your window, my love, do  
My mam and dad they are both awake  
And they are sure for to hear us speak  
There'll be no excuse  
Then but sore abuse  
Many a bitter word and blow  
So begone from my window, my love, do  
Your mam and dad they are both asleep  
And they are sure not to hear us speak  
They're sleeping sound  
On their bed of down  
And they draw they breath so low  
So open your window, my love, do  
My lover rose and she opened the door  
And just like an angel she stood on the floor  
Her eyes shone bright  
Like the stars at night  
No diamonds could shine so  
So in with my true love I did go.

-

 _Oh no! Not THAT song again_... Frank quickly headed off to the furthest field. Making sure that he definitely couldn't hear any singing any more... 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Mrs Jones sings is an old traditional English folk song. Steeleye Span recorded a version. It'll be on YouTube somewhere...
> 
> Mrs Jones is channeling a lot of Nanny Ogg energy (a brilliant character from Terry Pratchett's equally brilliant novels).


	4. Come Live With Me and Be My Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iris reads love poetry and Frank is glad Iris can't mind read.

Frank and Iris are in the barn. She reached up to get the book of fairy stories from the beam that they keep it hidden on, but Frank stopped her.

"Not tonight, I've got something else for you to read."

He took a small book out of his pocket and handed it to her. It's the poetry book she found in his room.

"Pick one to read." he said as he pointed to the book. She flicked through randomly and chose one. He looked.

"This one? Are you sure?" he inquired.

"Yes." she told him.

She realised why he asked as soon as she started reading.

-

Come live with me, and be my love;  
And we will all the pleasures prove  
That hills and valleys, dales and fields,  
Woods, or steepy mountain yields.

And we will sit upon the rocks,  
Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks  
By shallow rivers to whose falls  
Melodious birds sing madrigals.

And I will make thee beds of roses,  
And a thousand fragrant posies;  
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle  
Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle;

A gown made of the finest wool  
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;  
Fair linèd slippers for the cold,  
With buckles of the purest gold;

A belt of straw and ivy-buds,  
With coral clasps and amber studs:  
And, if these pleasures may thee move,  
Come live with me, and be my love.

The shepherd-swains shall dance and sing  
For thy delight each May-morning:  
If these delights thy mind may move,  
Then live with me, and be my love.

-

Iris finished, closed the book and handed it back to him. She was blushing furiously. He was strangely quiet for a while, just sitting and watching her. Then he praised her for her pronunciations and he stood up to leave, stating that it'd been a long day.

She remembered something and thought that maybe now was the best time to ask... To distract from her embarrassment. She stayed sitting and asked:

"Who is 'M', from the writing in the front of your book?"

He frowned, "What?" confusion has him, but then he smiled with understanding.

"Oh! M is my mother. M for 'Mother'. She gave me that book. it's the only thing I have left of her. Actually, it's the only thing I have that I've carried round with me all this time from back then," he smiled.

She smiled too, relieved. _Not a lover!_

"Best get back then," he said, "It's getting late now and they'll all be wondering what we are up to." Iris took his offered hand, held out to help her stand up. They walk to the farmhouse together chatting about random things.

Iris deliberately didn't ask about that poem.

As they walked into the house, Mrs Jones was hovering in the kitchen.

"Where have you two been? Dinner's been cleared away, you'll have to make do with cold sandwiches. And tidy up after yourselves, I've got the dairy to tend to now," Mrs Jones huffed but didn't leave quite yet.

"I'll make us something," Iris offered. "What do you want Frank, there's still some ham I think?" She goes to rummage in the pantry.

Mrs Jones shook her head, and said to Frank quietly. "You need to be careful. There's already talk about you two. You'll give her a reputation. You need to decide what you want with her. Your intentions."

"What talk?" Frank whispered back, "Who's been talking? _Intentions?_ "

Iris came out of the pantry with the ham and they both go quiet.

"I found some apples too!" Iris declared.

"I'll tell you later," Mrs Jones hissed to Frank. "But you need to make your mind up soon." She warned him and left them to their late dinner.

Iris saw Frank frowning.

"What did Mrs Jones mean?" Iris asked.

"Oh nothing," Frank looked up quickly, his thoughts interrupted. "Er... just something about the woodpile needing re-stocking again."

"Oh," Iris said and cheerfully set about making food and chattering about something and nothing. Frank wasn't really listening, he watched her though. Carefully watching and taking her in.

She's talking about how she saw a snake in the woodpile last week. He answered her questions on how to deal with snakes but he's only half listening. Answering in ums and nods. He'll need to speak to Mrs Jones and ask about any gossip. He hates gossip, _nothing good ever came of it._ He'll need to be careful with Iris too, she's a delicate thing in her innocence, but a clever thing too.

He can't lie to her, she'll find him out, as always. He knew all too well how he felt about her. He admitted to himself that he wanted her. The explicit nocturnal thoughts he had, whilst lying in his bed, staring up at his bedroom ceiling tell him that much. Having to take himself in hand sometimes to relieve the aching _need_ he felt.

But he is unsure of her. How she'd take to him telling her how much he really wanted her. How she'd react to a declaration of his feelings. Telling her what he wants of her, what he wished for them to do together. He shifted in his chair, his trousers suddenly uncomfortably tight. She's younger than him, pretty enough to have her pick of any man in the village and way beyond. He'd not seen her showing any interested in anyone else though. She always seemed to seek him out. Which made him hopeful and subconsciously preen himself. He'll need to ask around discreetly, to check if there is anyone else she's keen on, any competition. He's lost in himself and only stopped when Iris said his name.

"Sorry, what?" she's asked him something but he's missed it. Too caught up in his thoughts.

"Do you want me to cut this sandwich in half for you, or is it ok as is?" she asked.

He's glad she's oblivious to the thoughts running through his head. Glad she can't mind read and hear his admissions of what he wants to tell her.

"Oh. Yes please," he said. Glad she can't picture the things he imagined them doing together...

"Which one? Cut or not?" she asked again, knife hovering over said sandwich.

"Oh, cut please." _Pull yourself together man!_

He mentally smacked himself. She smiled, cut the sandwich and pushed his plate across the table. Oblivious to his thoughts.

He sat and ate. This time joining in with her chatter about the farm to try and distract himself.

He suffered an extremely restless night in bed that night...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The Passionate Shepherd to His Love", known for its first line "Come live with me and be my love", is a poem written by the English poet Christopher Marlowe.


	5. Lost and Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's lost is never really lost, not when you've been found.

Iris slowly ambled back to the farmhouse along the lane. She knew that Frank wouldn't be back until much later, as the old tractor had broken down. _Again._ She would have stayed and kept him company, but he was wrapped up in his mending and had already snapped at her twice. She'd learnt a couple of new swear words too, that he'd aimed at that stupid tractor. If she was feeling brave enough later, she'd ask him what they meant. He probably wouldn't tell her though, but she could try.

She told him that she would head back to the farm and bring him back some food. He paused in his ministrations on the wretched machine and thanked her with a smile, then went back to his work.

-

Iris had to jump back out of the way of the two Fletcher boys as they came running along the lane with their hobby horses. They were brandishing stick lances, one of them with a pennant tied to the end. _Hang on! I recognise that flag!_

"Hey! Stop!" she shouted, running after them.

"What's up miss?" one asked.

"That flag, where did you get it?" she pointed at their make-shift pennant. It was Frank's embroidered rag. Her gift to him.

"We found it lying along the lane back there. Didn't think it was anyone's."

"What? With their name on it and everything?" she asked. "Will you give it here please?" she held her hand out. They didn't look very convinced. 

"Here. You can have my scarf instead, if you let me have that," Iris began untying her headscarf.

"A proper lady's favour for a dashing knight!" she held the pretty scarf out to them, hoping they'd agree. 

"Ok miss, you've got a deal!" They swapped the rag for Iris's scarf excitedly, arguing over who should have it as they ran up the lane.

-

She continued on her walk back, sad that Frank had just dropped her gift. _After all my effort in making it! It'll need washing as it's covered in mud, it looks like a herd of sheep has trampled over it!_ She reached the farmhouse and gathered up some food for Frank, adding a bottle of ale out of the pantry to her food stash. She washed the rag and hung it on the line in the yard to dry on her way out. 

-

Unknown to Iris, Frank is not in a bad mood because of the tractor, even though it did _really_ annoy him. Farmer Storey was fond of cheap rubbish machinery, the thresher incident earlier in the year was testament to that! Instead, he's angry with himself. Angry after he discovered that he'd lost the old rag that Iris had embroidered for him. He's _livid_ with himself if he's to be honest. He's already re-traced his steps from yesterday to no avail.

He'll have to admit to her that he had lost it. He sighed and took his frustration out on the tractor again, giving it a right good _thwack_ with the spanner! It bounced back at him, cutting the top of his hand in the process! His fury redoubled, flying away as swear words, which filled the air as he sucked his hand where it was cut.

"Frank! What happened? Are you hurt?" He heard her before he saw her. She ran up to him and grabbed his hand. Turning it this way and that to see what's wrong. She ran back to a basket, dropped a way back in her haste to reach him. She pulled the cloth from the top, and then ran back to Frank, wrapping it around his injured hand. 

"Thank you," he said.

"You shouldn't be angry with that stupid machine so much. You could have really hurt yourself!" she admonished him. "If something were to happen to you…" she shook her head and left the rest unsaid.

"I'm sorry Iris," he sighed. "I'm not really that angry at that silly thing. Although it is _annoying_!" He waved his good hand at the sad looking tractor. He sighed again before continuing.

"I lost the cloth you stitched for me," he admitted. "Sometime yesterday I think. I'm sorry Iris," he said sadly. "I've looked everywhere but I can't see it. I'm so angry with myself for losing your gift! Sorry..." He shook his head, waiting to see her reaction.

She smiled at him. Not exactly what he expected.

She spread a blanket in the floor and motioned for him to sit, which he did. She gathered the food basket and sat next to him. She paused. Placing her hands on her lap and turned to look at him.

"I'd rather have you in one piece than that rag," she admitted. "I can always make another, but there's only one Frank Tucker!" she smiled happily at him again and reached over to hand him the bottle of ale, thankfully not smashed when she had dropped the basket earlier. 

"And besides, I found it for you!" She revealed.

"What? Where?!" he exclaimed.

"The Fletcher twins had it. I had to swap my headscarf for it to get it back though," she admitted.

"What? The pretty green one with pink flowers?" he asked.

She nodded.

"But that was your favourite wasn't it? You were always wearing it weren't you?" he asked. _It was my favourite too_ he admitted to himself.

She shrugged. "I can get another. Can't get another you though!" she nudged him with her elbow, then passed him a sandwich.

He laughed heartily and shook his head.

"You're a true wonder Miss Iris Dawson" 

"No, you are the wonder Frank. You noticed that was my favourite. No one else would," she added the last bit quietly. 

They laughed together and sat with their picnic, eating and chatting happily. 

He made a promise to himself to get her a new headscarf. _As close to her favourite as I can find._

When they reached the farmhouse again, she pointed out the embroidered rag waving merrily on the washing line. He smiled at her when he saw it and gratefully pocketed it again.

  
  



	6. Belief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Frank and Iris almost get themselves thrown out of church.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This small ficlet was completely inspired by the first screenshot here... 🤭
> 
> And is also dedicated to all those who've had to invent ways to amuse themselves (or stay awake) during a boring mass...

He's in church. Not exactly where Frank would choose to be if it were up to him. He wouldn't call himself an atheist, but he certainly wasn't so sure in that belief, not as others were. And he also wouldn't say he's a strict churchy type. Not really entering the building except for weddings, funerals and christenings. _No, that's a lie_ he thought. He'd been to a goodly few midnight masses as well. When the large drunken gatherings of working men merrily poured themselves out of the pub, and into the warmth of the church to add their ale fuelled enthusiasm to the singing of Christmas carols.

They're in church today though. He couldn't let himself _not_ be the one to escort Iris there and back. Not after how shyly she'd asked if he would do so. And he wouldn't tolerate seeing another man taking her. _No, I couldn't allow that to happen._

So here they are, sat together, in a pew all to themselves. Him in his Sunday best and Iris in a pretty dress. They're here for a Christening, for a child of one of Iris's old land-girl friends who had got married last year.

But he thought that he maybe believed in _something_ as he looked over to his left at Iris. She's stood next to him, sharing the hymn book with him, singing happily. Their fingers accidentally touch under the book. He looked over at her again and saw a blush spreading up her face.

He's bored and thinks to try something. To alleviate the tediousness of just sitting and listening to the sermon when they are sat back down, after the hymn had finished. He lightly touched her hand with one of his fingers to get her attention. She looked up at him to see what he wanted. He gave her a cheeky wink. His reward was seeing her blush grow. She smiled and looked away. He touched her hand again and she looked sideways at him. He pulled a silly face. She giggled and mouthed the word ' _stop_!'. He chuckled to himself as he went to share the hymn book with her again, daring to brush her fingers lightly with his once more as they stood for another hymn.

As they're singing, he nudged her side lightly with his elbow to get her attention and sent another wink her way. Her singing faltered as she giggled, holding a hand up to her mouth to try and cover up the noise. _This is a fun game,_ he thought.

He'll have to be careful though as there'd already been some ' _tuts_ ' from the old busy-bodies in the pew behind them. But Frank has never been one to shirk a tricky task. 

There's still another four hymns to go, judging by the sign at the front showing the hymn numbers for the service. He can't deny that he got a thrill from seeing her blush as he touched their hands together underneath the hymn book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Paul Ritter is looking absolute lovely here in these screenshots. I mean, just look at him! 🤭😊


	7. Mission Accomplished

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A daring mission into uncharted territory is accomplished satisfactorily.

Frank happened across a delicate clump of daisies, happily growing by the hedgerow on his walk back from the high field. _Pretty things_. He paused. A half formed plan in his head. He'd have to be quick though, as Iris and the other land girls had started to pack up and would shortly be making their way back to the farmhouse.

Decision made, he picked a small bunch. A small bunch of happy little flowers.

-

Back at the farmhouse, there's no one in. _That's lucky_ he thought to himself. He knocked on her door, just to double check that there wasn't actually anyone in. No answer. _Excellent!_ With the house empty, it's made his goals completion all the more easier.

He left the small posey in Iris's room, on her pillow. He smiled as he congratulated himself on the successful achievement of his sneaky task. He then swiftly crept back to his room to clean up before dinner as he heard the creak of the kitchen door downstairs.

Someone was walking upstairs. This house was all creaks and groans, another job to add to the many on his list. He heard someone go to Iris's room. It could be her or one of the other two girls she shared with, he's not sure. He stilled and cocked his head to listen. He didn't quite know her footfalls from the others yet. He thought that it's maybe her, but he's not certain. Well, not until he heard her gasp and laugh. Then he knew unmistakably that it was her. He smiled. _Mission accomplished!_

He can _hear_ her smiling and it makes him smile proudly himself.

She stuck her head out of her room and shouted across the hallway...

"Frank? Are you there?"

"Yes," he answered. "Is there something wrong?" he asked innocently as he opened his door and looked out. She's stood in the hall, halfway between his room and hers.

"Did you put these on my bed?" she's holding the daisies up.

"Um... Yes," he said, suddenly unsure of himself now that she's right there in front of him. "Er... I thought you might like them to brighten up your room?"

He felt awkward and rubbed the back of his neck. All his bravado from earlier, when plotting his cunning ploy had fled, vanished like morning mist in the midday sunshine. He felt like some idiot young boy with no experience again. Which, truth to tell, he was. He'd no experience at all in this business of _courtship_ and _woo-ing_. 

"Thank you Frank!" she smiled while bouncing happily on her toes. He couldn't help but be infected by her joyfulness, he felt braver and smiled back at her.

"I'm just going to go get a glass of water to put them in so they can sit next to my bed," she declared.

He touched her arm to stop her as she skipped past him.

"How did you know it was me?" he wondered. "It could have been anyone?"

"No, I _knew_ it was you Frank. I just knew. It's only you that would do this. For me!"

She giggled and went off downstairs to get the glass of water for her pretty daisies.

She beamed up at him as she turned at the bottom of the stairs. He's stuck in place. Watching her.

He awkwardly lifted a hand in a wave and _finally_ mentally kicked himself into carrying on getting washed or he'd probably still be standing there, stupid grin intact, when she came back up again…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daisies have many meanings according to Google. Here, I've chosen where they = Loyal Love, Gentleness, Innocence.


	8. A Matched Pair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The summer fair is at the village. It's a good excuse for some procrastination from doing the boring accounting. 
> 
> How many prizes can be won by the best shot in town?

A fair had arrived at the village. Tinkers, tradesmen and a funfair had congregated from all over. The whole lot converged on the village green.

Iris went off with the gaggle of land girls, all walking off together to see the fair. Frank told her that he'd be along later in answer to her shy query as to if he'd be going. He's the account books to get finished by the end of the week or her Ladyship will be having him back in that bloody office for a telling off, like he's a naughty schoolboy. He snorted at that thought.

The clock chimes told him that he'd been sat with these books for over an hour now since the house emptied and he's still not finished. He's bored. He decided that as he's at a pauseable place, it's a good time to put everything back into the desk. He grabbed his cap on the way out. _Time to see what mischief is going on at the fair!_ he thought.

-

It's larger than he remembered previous ones being. More stalls than normal, which he thought was a bit odd seeing as people had less money to spare at the moment. He wandered amongst the mass aimlessly, until he noticed what, or rather _who_ , he was unconsciously seeking.

_Iris._

From his hidden viewpoint, he could see that she was looking longingly at headscarves on a haberdashery stall. She lingered on one in particular, a pretty green floral one, but sighed and put it back. Then she skittered off to catch up with the other girls.

Frank watched her go, then walked to the self same stall and pointed at the green floral scarf to buy it. The stall-holder smiled at him.

"She's a pretty one alright. This'll go lovely with her colouring. You're a lucky man to have such a bonny wee girl."

Frank said nothing. _She wasn't his_ he thought bitterly as handed over the coins and crammed the scarf angrily into his pocket. He'd need to decide when to give it to her. The stall-holder's comments had rattled him a tad. He knew that Iris wasn't his girl, though he'd be lying if he didn't wish that she were.

He wandered over to where the girls were standing, he kept a way off and pondered on what to do. Both about approaching the group Iris was in, and what to do with the headscarf.

He decided to contemplate the easier one first.

He put his hand in his pocket, touching the newly purchased scarf. _Will I leave it on her bed, like the daisies, or is it to be saved for a special occasion?_ He pulled himself up sharply as he realised that he needed to ask her when her birthday was as he didn't know!

He heard the girls laughing loudly at something, and noticed that they're gathered around a gaming stall. Air rifles are to hit markers for a prize. One of the girls is having a go. She loses. Not a surprise really, as most of these stalls are rigged.

The second conundrum is decided for him...

"Frank!" Iris had spotted him. She bounced up to where he's stood and threaded her arm through his, pulling him to the stall.

"Maybe you can win me something?" she asked expectantly.

"Line them up again," Frank told the stall-holder.

He lifted the air rifle and checked it's weight. It's not his usual weapon, it's much lighter. If he had his shotgun he'd be able to hit all five tins in one go.

He handed the rifle back to the stallholder to be reloaded. Frank noticed that the ammo is smaller than traditional BBs and also sees that its air pressure is reduced from what it should be. Plus he guessed that the rifle's sights were probably tampered with as well, if he's right. He held the offered, now loaded, rifle up to his shoulder. He's right, the sights are off. _Rigged_.

The holder announced to him that he's five shots to shoot down three cans to win a prize.

The first shot went wide, just as he guessed it would. He adjusted his aim. The next four shots all hit their mark. Then the whole bloody gaggle of them were cheering and clapping around him. A teddy bear is offered to him, he nods at Iris who squeals in delight as she takes the bear and cuddles it in joy. _Lucky sodding bear_ he thought. _I do all the work and it gets the hugs!_

Iris threaded her arm back through his and walked him to another stall.

"Come on Frank, let's see what else you can win me!" She hopped from foot to foot with excitement. He chuckled at her. The happiness and excitement she showed was infectious, just like her smile and laugh.

He pushed the hand from his free arm into his pocket. Pushing the scarf back down deeper so as not to lose it. That other decision seemed to have been made for him now too. _It'll have to be saved for later_ , he thought, as they reach a coconut stall.

He smiled and winked at Iris as he tested the ball by throwing it up and catching it a few times. This one was always one of his best. His brother taught him to always think of the coconut as the head of someone you hated, as this game is usually rigged too. You need a lot of oomph behind the throw to knock the heavier than expected coconuts off, especially with such a light ball. So it's three Vernon Storeys that he sends flying to win Iris another stuffed toy.

They've lost the other girls. It's just him and her now. And five blooming stuffed toys crammed into Iris's arms.

"Time to head back before they run out of prizes," she teased. "Anyway, I don't think I've got enough space in my arms to carry another!" she laughed.

"Come on then." He tugged gently on her arm, it was tucked back through his, he set them on their way back towards the farmhouse.

-

It's a warm night. A crisp, clear sky overheard. The blue draining away, being replaced by a mix of orange and scarlet as the sun set. They ambled back through the village, passing the pub. One of the men gathered outside waved at him. He recognised a couple of them from the fields here and also from when he was living here last, a good few years ago now. He waved back. They cheered him on as he and Iris _and the damn stuffed toys_ walked past. He looked back and saw a few lewd gestures being aimed their way. He cheerily sent back a two-fingered salute. _Fuckers!_ he thought.

"Oh don't worry," Iris said, "they're just jealous".

"What?" he asked, thinking that she's never been so upfront and confident about herself before.

"Yes," she continued. "They're jealous because of all these that you won for me," she hoisted the bears aloft. "I can't see _them_ with many teddy bears, can you?" she asked. He laughed heartily at that truth.

"You're the best shot in town and they are jealous of your skills," she added.

"Yea, you're right about that," he answered proudly, knowing it to be true. Preening in her praise. He _was_ the best shot in town.

-

They reached the farmhouse and Mrs Jones was there to greet them. _Great_ he thought, _there'll be comments from her soon._

"Cup of tea?" Mrs Jones asked. Iris replied with a _yes please_.

"You've been busy then," she nodded at the pile of bears Iris still held. _Here we go_ he thought...

"Frank won them all for me!" Iris said squeezing the bears happily.

"Oh, he did now did he?" Mrs Jones looked at Frank and winked. "You two go on through and I'll bring the tea in a minute while I just wait for the kettle to boil again."

She started singing one of _those songs_ again as they went through to the living room. _Annoying woman!_

Iris bumped into Frank. She'd turned and was frowning in Mrs Jones direction and hadn't noticed that he'd stopped in front of her as he'd gone into the living room. The bears were scattered all over the living room floor.

"Sorry!"

"Sorry!"

They both exclaimed at once.

He's holding her arms, and her hands are braced on his chest. Not quite a hug, _but almost_ he thought happily as he gazed down at her beautiful face.

Frank let go and stepped back. He needed a distraction... _Quick man, think!_ Then he remembered!

"Er... I got you this earlier," he said, as he pulled the scarf out of his pocket and offered it to her.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. Her beautiful face was lit up in the hugest of smiles. "Thank you!" She daintily placed one hand on his shoulder and reached up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "Thank you," she said again, this time more shyly as she stepped back and tied the scarf around her head. She's blushing furiously, her face a bright red, almost matching her hair.

"I told you I'd replaced your traded one," he said. He can feel the place where she kissed his cheek, her sweet lips had burned a brand there. He knew that he's probably blushing stupidly too. 

Mrs Jones chose that precise moment to come in and set a tray down on the table. _Bloody hell! Perfect timing_ he thought as he can still feel a bright red blush upon his face.

"I'll leave you two blushing loves to yourselves then. No one likes being the third wheel," she said as she bustled back into the kitchen.

 _Blasted woman!_ he thought. Frank looked up at Iris. They're a matching pair then as he can feel his cheeks still aglow. He smiled and shook his head as he looked at Iris. 

They're both smiling at each other's blushes.

Iris looked back at him and giggled, hiding her amusement behind her hands. He smiled at her and laughed loudly himself, not bothering to hide his hilarity. They're both in such fits of laughter that Mrs Jones popped her head back into the room. She looked at them, both trying desperately to stifle their laughter. She tutted, then backed out again. She's followed out by their resumed loud laughter. The both of them in tears of shared merriment.

Their laughter subsides to smiles and chuckles, and he reached over to pour them both some tea as she gathered the forgotten, dropped bears and arranged them together on a chair.

Frank thought that this, their joint merriment at their shared awkwardness, was the best prize of the night. He's not laughed so much in a good long while. _Well, the best prize was really the kiss she'd gifted him just before_ he re-thought. 

The bears are left, forgotten on their chair as Frank and Iris chat away happily to each other, recounting their escapades at the fair and his many wins.


	9. A Siren's Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To ask a Siren to sing for you is a dangerous thing...

It's been a long day, everyone's been busy with the harvest. The wheat and the grass all needed to be cut and either sold on or stored away as winter feed before it spoiled.

-

Frank trudged back, the last one from the field, he'd made sure that everything and everyone, was as it should be before leaving. He's knackered and just wanting his bed.

As he approached the farm buildings, he heard singing. A siren, drawing him closer despite his fatigue. He stopped at the gate to take in the sight now before him.

It's Iris. She's singing a sweet tune while she groomed and cleaned Bess, one of the Shire Horses. She had such a lovely way with them. The two work horses heads are dropping, they've had a long day too. But the huge beasts still behaved for her, trapped in her siren song too.

Frank listened, watching spellbound. He was completely caught in the moment and didn't want to leave it.

Mrs Jones came up behind him and coughed. _God_ , she almost made him jump! _That woman is everywhere, noticing everything._ She smiled at him, and leant closer to him.

"You'll have to do something about that you know," she said quietly.

"What? Iris's singing?" he asked, he spun, turning to look at the mad woman. He was utterly shocked at the suggestion that Mrs Jones would want to put a stop to that! Iris had a lovely voice, in his opinion.

"You know what I mean, dear. You'll have to talk to her, and soon. Be brave. Ask her," she urged him with a nudge to his side. "You're definitely the worst case I've seen in a good long time."

He sighed in reply.

Mrs Jones smiled, shaking her head chuckling to herself as she left him and headed off towards the kitchen.

Frank thought that Mrs Jones was probably right. But he's a coward and opted for the safer option of hiding and went to follow Mrs Jones, walking towards the farmhouse.

Mrs Jones, never one to miss out on a good bout of teasing, shouted out to Iris as she passed.

"Hoy Iris, Frank's over here, ask him to give you a hand with the horses. Two pairs of hands make for quicker work in many a thing eh?"

He sighed again. _Annoying woman!_

Iris looked round to where Mrs Jones is pointing and spotted Frank, he's already moving towards her. She waved and smiled at him as he approached her.

"Are you sure?" she asked "You already looked tired when I left you in the field earlier. I don't mind finishing up here if you'd prefer to get some rest."

"I don't mind," he replied, and in all honesty, he didn't. It's as good excuse as any to spend some time alone with her. _I'll give Mrs Jones credit for that much_ , he thought grudgingly.

"You get these two bedded down while I tidy up here. Their harnesses will need cleaning as well before we finish. When you're done with the horses, come find me in the tack room, it'll be quicker if the two of us work together on that."

"Just like Mrs Jones said?"

"Hmmph," he answered and made a start on collecting up the harnesses and brasses and headed off to the tack room as Iris stabled the horses.

She joined him in the small room next to the stables, and took an item from the pile on the floor. She picked up a cleaning cloth, then sat next to him to start work.

"What was the song you were singing earlier, while grooming Bess?" he asked.

"Oh, just something that Mrs Jones taught me. I don't _think_ it's rude…" she scrunched her nose up at that last thought. Mrs Jones certainly loved her bawdy songs. Iris rubbed a piece of leather furiously. She certainly hoped it wasn't rude, that she'd not missed any hidden _meanings_...

Frank stopped his task, placed a hand on her arm to still her ministrations too. She looked up at him, a query writ on her face.

"Can you sing it again please," he asked. "For me."

"What? Now?"

He nodded and smiled at her. She then looked down shyly at her hands and started singing, quietly, a blush spread on her cheeks prettily.

They have both paused in their task. He listened, rapt, while she concentrated on her song. Closing her eyes as she put her all into her singing.

This job might take longer now it's the two of them, _contrary to Mrs Jones advice_ , he thought.

The annoying woman is right about that other thing though. He's definitely a bad, _bad_ case alright...

-

**The Golden Glove**

Oh it's of a young squire in Tamworth we hear  
And he courted a nobleman's daughter so fair.  
And all for to marry her it was his intent;  
And the friends and relations they'd given their consent.

Now a day was appointed for their wedding day  
And the farmer he was appointed for to give her away;  
But as soon as the lady this farmer did spy,  
Oh, her heart was inflamed and bitterly she did cry.

And she turned from the squire but nothing she said,  
But instead of getting married she took to her bed.  
And the thoughts of the farmer so ran in her mind,  
A way for to have him she quickly did find.

Coat, waistcoat and trousers the young girl put on  
And away she went a-hunting with her dog and her gun.  
And she hunted around where the farmer he did dwell  
Because in her heart, oh, she loved him right well.

And she oftentimes fired but nothing she killed  
Until this young farmer came into the field;  
And for to talk with him it was her intent  
And with her dog and her gun then to meet him she went.

“Oh I thought you would have been at the wedding,” she cried,  
“For to wait on the squire and to give him his bride.”  
“Oh no,” said the farmer, “I'll take a sword in my hand.  
By honour I'd gain her whenever she command.”

And the lady was pleased when she heard him so bold  
And she gave him a glove that was made out of gold;  
And she told him that she found it she was coming along  
As she went out a-hunting with her dog and her gun.

And this lady went home with a heart full of love  
And she gave out a notice that she'd lost her glove  
And, “Whoever found it and he brings it to me,  
Whoever he is then my husband shall be.”

The farmer he was pleased when he heard of the news  
And with a heart full of love to the lady he goes.  
“Oh lady, oh lady, I've picked up your glove,  
And I hope that you'll be pleased for to grant me some love.”

“Oh it's already granted, I will be your bride,  
For I love the sweet breath of the farmer,” she cried.  
“I'll be mistress of your dairy and I'll milk all your cows  
While my jolly old farmer goes whistling on his plough.”

And it's when they got married and they told of the fun  
How she'd gone out a-hunting with her dog and her gun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Iris sings has many variations, being called The Golden Glove / The Squire of Tamworth / Dog and Gun. 
> 
> It's another old English folk song. There are several sweet versions on YouTube if you search there for it...


	10. Two Pairs of Hands are Better Than One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mrs Jones hatches another cunning plan...

Iris _almost_ made it out of the farmhouse without Mrs Jones seeing her. She had wanted to catch Frank before he got back to the farmhouse. To meet him in the lane between here and the top farm where she'd left him earlier in the morning as they parted ways, each off to a different field. She'd heard Mrs Jones mention that there will be a dance for the harvest festival in two weeks. She desperately wanted to know if Frank had asked anyone yet. She wasn't forward enough to ask him outright to go with her, which is what she'd _really_ wanted to do. _But maybe I could at least ask him about it and he might say no, he hadn't asked anyone yet, and then he might ask me, mightn't he?_

Anyway, that plan is put aside until tomorrow as she's handed a basket and tasked to go off to the orchard to harvest some apples. Mrs Jones had promised everyone a pie upon completion of her task. So Iris headed off, swinging her basket, singing to herself.

-

I wrote my mother  
I wrote my father  
And now I'm writing you too  
I'm sure of mother  
I'm sure of father  
Now I wanna be sure of you  
Don't sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me  
Anyone else but me, anyone else but me  
No! No! No!  
Just remember that I've been true to nobody else but you  
So just be true to me  
Don't go walking down lovers' lane with anyone else but me  
Anyone else but me, anyone else but me  
No! No! No!  
Don't start showing off all your charms in somebody else's arms  
You must be true to me  
I'm so afraid that the plans we made underneath those moonlit skies  
Will fade away and you're bound to stray if the stars get in your eyes  
So, don't sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me  
You're my L-O-V-E.  
Don't sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me  
Anyone else but me, anyone else but me  
No! No! No!  
Just remember that I've been true to nobody else but you  
So just be true to me  
Don't go walking down lovers' lane with anyone else but me  
Anyone else but me, anyone else but me  
No! No! No!  
Don't start showing off all your charms in somebody else's arms  
You must be true to me  
I'm so afraid that the plans we made underneath those moonlit skies  
Will fade away and you're bound to stray if the stars get in your eyes  
So, don't sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me

-

On her way to hang out some washing, Mrs Jones noticed Frank entering the yard, he's off to tinker with that blasted tractor again. A lost cause. Two in fact. _The tractor AND him_. She knew nothing of tractors or mechanics, but she knows a bit about men, having been married and widowed three times now. _Maybe I can help Frank_ she thought to herself… _Then at least one lost cause would be saved._

She smiled, a plan hatched. The washing basket was placed down and she headed into the kitchen and fetched another basket.

"Mr Tucker!" she shouted.

"Could I bother you with a small task if you don't mind?" She wandered over to where he's stood.

"What can I help you with Mrs Jones?" he asked.

"Oh it's just a small job, it won't take you long I warrant. If you could just fetch some apples for me please. From the orchard," she held out the basket towards him.

"I promised Iris a pie this evening," she added. _That should give him an extra incentive_ she thought sneakily.

He put down the spanner he'd been holding, wiped his hand on a rag, took the basket, and headed off to the orchard.

Mrs Jones went back to hanging the washing again. She hoped that her plan would work. It's only a small orchard, so they _should_ see each other. There's only so much a woman could do after all. If it was up to her, she'd just lock the pair of them in the tack room overnight and let them figure themselves out. She hummed to herself, _maybe that's not such a bad idea_ , she stashed it away, just in case it's needed.

-

Frank entered the small walled orchard and straight away saw something he did not like at all! _What on earth is she doing!?_

He ran, his basket dropped, task forgotten. The silly girl was standing on two old crates, precariously piled on top of each other. She's stretching up on her tiptoes trying to reach up to some high branches. The crates wobbled...

"Stop Iris! _Wait!_ " he shouted desperately.

She turned round at his shouting and lost her balance. He's at her side already though and they fall in a pile on the floor, he caught her, breaking her fall.

He's angry with her. _She scared me!_

"What are you doing? You could have broken your pretty little neck!" He shouted as he roughly checked her for breaks. He stopped once he's satisfied she's not hurt. They're kneeling, facing each other.

"Sorry," she said sadly. "I was just trying to reach..." her head drooped.

He sighed. He'd been too harsh. _I shouted when I'd said I would try not to_. His terror at her hurting herself, or worse, had caused his fear to come out as anger. He reached forward and lifted her chin up so she's forced to look at him.

"I'm sorry," he said, talking calmly now. "I shouldn't have shouted. But you could have hurt yourself," he explained.

He moved his hand from her chin to cup her cheek. "I was just shouting because I was scared for you," he admitted quietly.

She smiled shyly at him, at that admission and touched his arm.

"I'll be more careful from now on," she promised. "Sorry for scaring you." She smiled again at him.

He reluctantly moved his hand from her face. She was was so soft and warm…

He nodded. "Come on," he said, to break the spell. _If I don't, then I'd still be knelt there in front of her all evening_ he thought. That small touch she allowed him has him aching with the need to repeat it… and more...

"Show me where the apples you were trying to reach are?" He got up and offered his hand to help her up. Another small touch for him to hoard.

She pointed out the culprits to him: large, red, juicy apples. But on a high bough. Temptingly out of reach. He took one crate off from the pile she'd made and checked them both. He selected the most sturdy one and placed it back under the tree, closer to the trunk this time. He told her to stand on the crate, handed her a basket and then stood on top of it too, but behind her. He reached up and around her and pulled the branch down. It's now lowered and the apples are at her face height.

"Here," he said, "now you can pick them off while I hold the branch down." She turned her head slightly and his face is right _there_ as he leant his head round, so he could talk closer to her ear and not the back of her head. He smiled and motioned with a nod of his head up at the apples.

They work together like this, each concentrating on their task to distract themselves from the closeness of each other. He's that close that he can almost _feel_ the heat from the blush creeping up her cheeks. His arms are around her, his front is burning from the places it's touching her along her back. He thinks of boring things deliberately, to try and stay calm. Her face is so temptingly close to his that it makes this difficult. He can see the tiny freckles on her cheeks, her individual eyelashes. His breathing sped up. She had his full attention, but at the same time she didn't. Which is why he didn't hear as she told him that she'd finished. She turned her head to smile at him, to again tell him she'd done. Her lips were a hair's breadth from his… _So close…_

"Frank?" she said softly and he stilled, catching her eyes with his. _What is she wanting of him…?_

She touched one of his raised arms, "I'm finished picking."

He smiled and took a sharp breath in. Whatever spell she put him under, had just vanished. He carefully let go of the branch and dropped his arms. He told her to stay there as he got down off the crate. Once down, he held his hand out to take her full basket, placing it on the ground. She turned around on the crate and was now facing him.

"Wait," he held a hand out towards her to still her. He told her to put her hands on his shoulders then reached up and placed his hands on her waist to help her jump down. She's on the ground now, but they stay as they are. Each touching and looking at the other. She's the one who broke their locked gaze first. She moved one of her hands off from his shoulders and points at his empty basket.

"Still got the other basket to fill," she reminded him softly.

He released her from his hold and took a step back. Then he trailed after her, _like the hapless fool I am_ he thought as she walked off, basket swinging, heading towards another tree. This tree's apples are lower down. He didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing. He found that now he'd had a sample of being that close to her, he wanted more.

They fill the other basket and he suggested that they take a break as he handed her an apple to eat. They sat under the biggest tree, the one that she'd almost fell from. Each eating an apple, sitting close enough so that they are touching along their arms and sides. Neither wanted to move away. They sit and eat in a comfortable happy silence.

"Can I sing for you again?" she asked of him quietly.

"Of course! Please," he replied.

She started singing 'don't sit under the apple tree'. She's blushing prettily as she took a sneaky sideways look at him, as she sang. She finished the song and laughed in relief that her brave decision went so well.

He's lost for words... Dumbstruck. _Could she really want me, is that what she meant by this, her song?_ He's smiling and laughing along with her now... He's feeling brave too. He stood up and got his penknife out. He started carving into the tree trunk. She's stood too now, next to him, curiously watching what he's up to. He's done.

**FT ID**

He's not brave enough yet to put a plus sign between their initials or, god forbid, to carve an actual heart around them. But she beamed at him as he put his knife back into his pocket.

He broke the loaded silence.

"Come on then, best get these apples back to Mrs Jones or we'll never hear the end of it eh?"

They each pick up a basket, and she threaded her arm through his as they walked back to the farmhouse together. She was always doing that now, linking their arms. Not that it bothered him, the complete opposite in fact.

Mrs Jones spied them and smiled. She'll remind them again later about the harvest festival dance.

She made a mental list of all the errands she needed completed between now and then. Two pairs of hands make for quicker work in many a thing after all.

And if those plans of hers don't work, she can still always lock them up together in the small tack room!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Iris sings is by Glenn Miller of course.


	11. Dutch Courage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's finally time for the harvest festival dance...

The dance for the village harvest festival was only two days away and Iris was panicking.

She'd overheard one of the other girls, Yvonne, stop Frank and ask if he'd take her to the dance. But before she heard his answer, she'd been called away by Mrs Jones to help with fetching more wood into the lounge to pile up next to the fireplace. _Damn it!_ She fidgeted with the bits of wood, not really concentrating.

It was too late now! She'd spent a lot of time alone with him over the past couple of weeks, Mrs Jones sent her off with his lunch every day recently. But he'd not spoke to her about the dance at all. She'd asked him shyly if he'd be going with someone but he said he'd not asked anyone yet, and he'd left it at that. She wished she was brave enough to outright ask him, like Yvonne had just done. But it just wasn't in her nature to be so forward like that.

"Something on your mind dear?" asked Mrs Jones.

"No" she lied.

-

Now it was the evening of the dance and she was getting ready, caught up in the other girls' enthusiasm. She reached into her bedside cabinet and took out the pretty green scarf, the one that Frank had got her at the fair, to tie round her hair.

"Time to go girls!" shouted Mrs Jones from downstairs.

They ran downstairs in a group and Mrs Jones ushered them out, a mother hen with her chicks. Iris noticed that Frank wasn't in the house or with them.

"Where's Mr Tucker?" asked Yvonne before Iris could.

"Oh, he's already there, he's been helping with the setting up," she answered and looked pointedly at Iris.

Mrs Jones sighed and thought that she'd tried her best with those two. _Maybe not locking them together in the tack room was a mistake?_ She'd have to think of something at the dance to try. She'd bloody well not be spending _another_ month with those two damn idiots dancing round each other without actually getting anywhere! She'd get them dancing tonight alright, if it's the last thing she did!

-

They can hear the dance from outside before they can even see the hall. When they got inside, their group dispersed. The band's music is infectious. Iris stood at the periphery of the dance floor and listened, bouncing on her feet while watching the couples dance. She scanned the hall, looking. She finally spied Frank standing by the bar, at the side. She smiled and headed over. She stood next to him and said a shy 'hallo'.

"Would you like a drink?" he asked. "I'm going to get another for myself," he added. She nodded in reply.

"What would you like?" he asked.

"Um…" she's unsure.

He leant in towards her and spoke quietly. "I can sneak you a shandy while Mrs Jones is busy catching up on her gossiping if you like?" he motioned with his head at said woman who was currently busy with her cronies, her back towards them.

"Ok," she said, nodding and biting her lip. She'd not wanted _another_ nagging from Mrs Jones. She'd had a _whole night_ of it when she'd shared a bottle of ale with the girls in their room once. Mrs Jones did _not_ approve of her girls drinking.

He pointed at her headscarf.

"It suits you," he said.

"Thank you," she's pleased that he noticed and smiled happily at him.

He motioned to an empty table.

"Would you like to grab that table? I'll bring our drinks over."

She nodded in reply and headed over to sit.

He joined her soon after with a pint of beer for himself and a half pint of shandy for her. She thanked him, took a sip and smiled. She didn't want to admit to Frank that she's no idea what shandy is. It's nice and sweet though. Not at all bitter like the ale.

"Ok?" he asked.

She nodded and smiled again at him.

"Wouldn't you rather be out there dancing with your friends?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No. I'm happy here," she smiled, "with you."

He smiled at that too. Happy that she's happy. _I should really ask her to dance. Maybe after another drink._ _Dutch courage will definitely be needed for that_ he thought, as he took another gulp of his drink.

He's beaten to it though by a cocky GI who came up to their table. One of the ones staying at the hospital up a Loxley Manor he guessed. The GI leant down next to Iris.

"Hey Miss. Care to dance?"

"Um no. I'm ok, thanks."

"Ah come on. Pretty girl like you shouldn't be sat here missing out on the dancing when the music is flowing so sweetly," he pleaded and held his hand out to her.

Iris gave Frank a pleading look. He sighed, downed the rest of his pint, and stood. He offered her his hand.

"She won't be missing anything as she _will_ be dancing. With me," he said. "Come on then," he added and waved his outheld hand at her to get her to take it.

Iris squeaked excitedly and stood quickly. Taking Frank's hand before he changed his mind.

As they whirl around on the dance floor he noticed that same GI talking to Mrs Jones as she hands some money over to him. He laughed. _I'll have to thank her later._

"What?" Iris asked him, "What's so funny?"

He leant in towards her, the music is very loud, he has to lean in until his mouth is almost touching her ear. She can feel his breath on her. It makes her feel... _tingly_.

"I'll tell you later," he said and she turned and looked at him worriedly.

He chuckled and leant in again, "Don't worry, it's nothing bad. I promise." Then he spun her round to the music and she's back against him just as the song stops. They join in with the applause with everyone else.

There's a pause in the music now as the band have some refreshments, so they go back to their table and he sat her down while he went to get another drink. She glanced behind her, looking for Frank at the bar and saw him talking to Yvonne. They're laughing together. Yvonne's hand on his arm. Iris fidgeted. _You're_ _JEALOUS_ the small voice in her head said. She again wished that she could be that outgoing. She turned back round, turning away from Frank and Yvonne.

She's stewing in her self-doubt and didn't hear him coming back until he leant around her to place her drink in front of her. She turned towards him and he placed a hand on her shoulder. He turned his face to meet her eyes.

"Alright?" he asked. She nodded. He picked up his chair where it's opposite her and moved it, so that he's now sat next to her. He noticed that she wasn't as happy as before he'd left for the bar, he nudged her with his elbow. "You looked like you were miles away. You sure there's nothing wrong?" she shook her head. "I know I'm not the best at dancing," he added and chuckled, unsure of himself. "I'm sure you could have your pick of them all if you wanted." He emphasized that point by waving his hand in the direction of everyone else.

 _What would Yvonne do?_ she thought. But she already knew the answer. "You're good Frank. At dancing," she smiled at him. She picked up her shandy, drinking the whole glass in one go as she heard the band start up again. _I can be just as brave as Yvonne_ , she thought.

"Steady there!" he laughed, uncertain at what she's about.

She took a deep breath. "But I might need another. Just to make sure. Another dance that is. With you. To check on your dancing," she stood up. He looked up at her, blinking, he downed his pint in one.

"Come on then," he took her hand and almost ran her back to the dance floor accompanied all the way by her giggles.

Other lads ask her for dances, both while they are dancing and while they're sitting, having a breather. But a mix of her firm headshakes and Frank's even firmer 'no's', sometimes verging on growls, send them all on their way. She liked how protective he is of her. They're sat at their table now, Frank drinking his pint and Iris sat next to him. The slow music has started which meant that the dance is coming towards its end. She sighed and leant her head onto Frank's shoulder. She's tired, but she's had a good night. A million times better than she'd hoped for.

Mrs Jones approached them with a loud greeting.

"Mr Tucker. Iris." Iris bolted upright. Mrs Jones smiled at them both.

"I'm going to round the girls up and head back. I'll leave Iris in your care Mr Tucker. Remember, I will be locking the doors at 12 tonight," she reminded them. She looked from one to the other. "Hmmph. I'm not sure who to ask to make sure the other gets back before then though," she looked at Frank and smiled. "Just don't do anything I wouldn't do!" she added with a wink at Frank.

"That doesn't leave me very much to work with Mrs Jones," Frank said cheekily, which got a ' _tut_ ' from Mrs Jones and a giggle from Iris. "Don't worry, we'll be back before Cinderella," he added as Mrs Jones sailed off.

Iris sighed and placed her head back onto Frank's shoulder. He moved away though. She sat up and looked at him.

"What? Sorry. I thought you didn't mind," she asked

He chuckled and beckoned her back but this time he moved his arm out and round behind her, so that this time, when she rested her head back on his shoulder, his arm was round her back, with his hand resting warmly on her shoulder.

"That's better isn't it?" he asked. She nodded against him.

They sat like that while Frank finished his drink. He placed it on the table and moved to stand in front of her.

"One last dance before we head back?" he held his hand out to her again.

She nodded eagerly and let him lead her back to the dance floor. It's a slow dance, so they're closer than they were before. Leaning into each other now. Neither really sure what they're doing. Her head is resting on him as they sway in time with the music. The song finishes and he moved back so she has to move her head away from its resting place on him. She smiled happily up at him.

"Come on then. Best head back or we'll still be here come tomorrow morning," he said softly.

"I don't think I'd mind that so much," she answered. Silently adding in her head _as long as I'm with you_. She's not brave enough to say it aloud. She's no Yvonne, not really.

He tucked a stray strand of her hair back behind her ear then motioned with his head.

"Come on," he turned and put his hand behind her back to guide her out of the hall.

They walked back to the farmhouse in silence. Her arm threaded through his. Both with nothing and everything to say to the other.

When they're back in the farmhouse kitchen he stopped.

"You go on up," he told her, "I'm just going to make up the fire in the aga for the morning," she nodded and turned to go. She took a few steps toward the stairs, then turned back, rushed up to him and planted a quick kiss on his lips. She shot off upstairs before either of them could say anything.

He's still standing there, like an idiot, touching his mouth where she'd kissed him, when Mrs Jones came in from the lounge.

"Are you alright Mr Tucker?" she asked.

"I'm not entirely sure Mrs Jones," he answered.

She chuckled, shook her head and went upstairs, leaving him still standing there.


	12. Misunderstandings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iris is upset. And Frank does as he's told.

Iris is not happy. Not happy at all.

She'd seen Yvonne with the rag she'd stitched for Frank. Why had he given _her_ that?

She needed to find him...

She cornered him in his room. His door was open, so she knocked on the door.

"Hello Frank, can I talk to you please?"

"Of course. You don't have to ask special permission Iris." He saw her frown, a crease on her brow marring her pretty face. "What's wrong?"

"Yvonne has been asking after you a lot… She cornered me the other day and kept asking questions about you. Asking if you had a fancy woman or girlfriend... I said I didn't know... Then I heard Mrs Jones talking today, she said that you had your eye on 'someone'... Is there someone? I mean do you..? Have you..?"

She looked at the floor, her face dropping sadly, her hands fidgeting.

He got up, strode past her, stuck his head out of his door, looked up and down the hallway. _No-one about._ He then took her arm, pulled her into his room and shut the door.

"Iris! There isn't anyone else…! You should know that, after the dance. Don't you?"

Iris looked up and shook her head.

He sighed and took a step closer to her. "Mrs Jones was right about one thing though," he continued. "I do have my eye on someone."

Iris looked down again. She didn't see him smiling at her.

"Oh," she said sadly.

"But the trouble is that I'm not too sure if she feels the same way about me. I'm not very good at talking about things like that... You know I'm no good at ... _feelings_... At being gentle and the like," he continued.

She looked up at him.

"You are. Good that is. I've seen you with the horses. You're so gentle with them. Getting them to work without the need to whip them, like Walter did all the time... And with Penny, my lamb," she frowned at the thought of her poor pet lamb. "You showed me how to tend to her. And then with me, you were patient with me, teaching me to read and all the farm things…" she took a step closer to him, placing a hand on his arm.

"You've held me. Held me when I'm sad." Iris looked down and frowned. Her hand dropped.

"Whoever she is, she's a very lucky woman. You're a good man," she's speaking quietly now, almost a whisper. "The best."

Iris dropped her head sadly. She can feel tears pricking her eyes.

Frank sighed. "That's very kind of you Iris." _She's not understanding me._

He reached to hold her hand, waiting for her to pull away... But Iris didn't. _She's no idea, the silly thing._ He sighed and squeezed her hand. He needed to tell her. To stop this misunderstanding in its tracks. To try to explain why he's waited till now to say anything. Why he's been too afraid...

"I've never needed anyone. Moved from farm to farm all my life, following the work. I've never had a connection or need for company. Been a loner most of my life. Never ever thought I'd marry and settle down, get the chance to have children," he paused. "Never thought I'd find myself seeing something, like flowers, and thinking I'd have someone who I could pick them for. Never thought I'd actually do something soppy like picking them for her and leaving them on her pillow."

Iris looked back up sharply at that, remembering the daisies. She smiled shyly turning her hand so they are palm to palm, holding hands. _Could it be??_

Frank looked at their hands and chuckled nervously. "I'm no good at all the daft soppy stuff women seem to like. I used to laugh at other men for doing that," he squeezed her hand again and dipped his head to get her to look at him. "Don't you want to know who I'm fond of, who I've got my eye on, or whatever you called it?" He waved his other hand while saying that last bit.

Iris looked at him now. He saw hope and fear fight in her eyes. Frank cupped her cheek. Iris looked down, but he could see that she was smiling as well as crying now. He let go of her hand and wiped a tear away from her other cheek, bringing his other hand up, holding that cheek too. He stepped closer.

"Do you know?" he asked quietly. He gently held her face, tilting it upwards, so she could see his eyes, so she couldn't hide from him. "Do you know who it is?" Iris shook her head minutely, her face held warmly in his hands.

"No Frank. Tell me," she whispered quietly, hope suddenly blooming in her heart, but the uncertainty is still there, fighting with it. "Please Frank, tell me!" she pleaded as he stayed silent. A tear slipped from her eye.

"You really have no idea?"

"No," Iris said miserably. "Please tell me! Put me out of my misery," she pleaded.

"No, I won't tell you," he said as he rubbed another tear away from her cheek with his thumb. She looked away.

"I'll show you instead," he leant down towards her. It's just a meeting of lips, nothing deeper, but he lingered longer than a chaste peck on the cheek. He finally pulled away. Iris is shocked. Wide eyes staring at him, then she threw her arms round his shoulders, laughing.

"Oh Frank!" she pulled back, away from him, crying and laughing, sobbing and wiping away her tears with the back of one of her hands, the other hand clinging to the back of his shirt, not wanting to let go of him.

"Come now," he smiled, "I can't kiss you with your face all covered in snot now can I?"

She laughed and he took a rag out of his pocket and handed it to her.

"Dry your eyes, love," she didn't do as he asked, but instead, stared at the rag. "What's wrong Iris?"

"This is the one I stitched for you isn't it?"

"Of course. Kept it in my pocket always since you gave it to me."

She beamed up at him and wiped her tears away. "Well until I lost it along the lane and then yesterday, in the barn. Must have fell out of my pocket... again... Good job you stitched my name on it as Yvonne found it and handed it back to me."

"I saw Yvonne with it and thought you'd given it away…" she admitted.

"No love. I'd never do that. Been in my pocket again ever since I got it back."

"Oh... " she smiled shyly at him. "Kiss me again Frank? Please?"

He chuckled. He was a smart man. He knew enough to know that when the beautiful girl that he was most likely in love with asked him something like that, he'd best do what he was told.


	13. Love Notes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Was buying Iris the journal a good or bad idea?

Iris had excelled at her lessons. She could read the letters she received from home proficiently now. Her writing still needed some practice though. Frank thought her handwriting was still a little wobbly. He bought her a small journal. A little book of blank pages wrapped in a pretty orange leather binding. The orange matched the flowers on her favourite headscarf.

He presented the journal to her one evening, after tea and received, what he thought, was a disproportionate amount of thanks in return. Not that he was _really_ complaining. But it was only a journal. Although a warm hug and a kiss from Iris was _definitely_ nothing to complain about.

He lived for her gifts of affection if he was being honest with himself. Stolen touches, held hands, light kisses, heavy kisses - it's all good as far as he's concerned.

-

The small notes started appearing a short while after he'd gifted her said journal. Small notes she slipped into his pocket, under his pillow, in his cap. All heartfelt declarations of things he guessed she found difficult to articulate in actual spoken words.

He wasn't too sure if buying her that journal was entirely a good idea. Anyone could see those notes that she left him.

One day he woke to find a note in his boot.

_Come find me in your cap._

He looked in his cap, only to find another note.

_Come find me in your account book._

He wondered how she'd gotten the notes into his cap and boot. They weren't there when he went to bed last night. He'd have to talk to her about going into men's rooms when they were in bed. She was too innocent at the moment for him to explain exactly what she might catch him doing there. But he knew that if their relationship was going to head where he _hoped_ it would then, well, he'd be showing her more than telling her about those things soon enough.

He had to sit on his bed awhile until he'd calmed down a bit after thinking on _that_ subject… _God!_ _She will be the undoing of me_ he thought, but in a good way he hoped as he pictured her in his bed. He closed his eyes, thinking of boring boring thoughts so he wouldn't have to sit here waiting on things subsiding for too much longer...

Thank God the next note was on a scrap of paper inside the farm accounts book, and not written directly in the actual ledger. He'd dreaded to think what Lady Hoxley would have thought if she'd seen _that_ when going through his numbers…

_Come find me in the kitchen._

"It's in your tin mug," Mrs Jones said. The mug his brother had got him when they were young lads, that no one else dared to use.

"What? Er… what is?" Frank asked the insufferable woman.

"The love note that Iris left for you."

If smugness could be summed up in one word, it would be Mrs Jones's face right there. _Well, technically, that's more than one word_ he thought, but anyway… _There would be no stopping the annoying woman now…_ _What was Iris thinking of??! Letting Mrs Jones see..._ He reached into his mug and pulled out a little piece of paper.

_Come find me where the fairytales are kept._

He headed out of the kitchen, off to the barn. He ignored Mrs Jones and her _smug_ face completely.

Iris was waiting for him there. He came up to her, stopping directly in front of her. Facing her.

"Iris?"

"You found me then!" She smiled happily and handed him a piece of paper. He read it.

_Come find yourself here in my heart._

He smiled at her. She was looking at him expectantly, fidgeting with her hands, which he knew was a sign of her nerves. He looked down at the note again, then put it in his pocket.

"You'll find yourself, Iris, here," he placed his palm against his chest.

She laughed and threw her arms round him, peppering his face all over with little kisses.

Buying her the journal was, on balance, definitely a good idea then, after all.


	14. Rescue!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iris makes a semi-honest man out of Frank. 
> 
> There will be some violence in this chapter.

Vernon Storey told her that he wouldn't kill her just yet.

"I'm going to use you as bait to bring Frank Tucker to me. Then I'll kill you both!"

-

Frank arrived back at the farmhouse early for tea. He's hungry, as he'd had no lunch. Mrs Jones told him that she'd sent Iris out this morning with his lunch. Frank frowned. _Maybe she got sidetracked by some other job?_

After Iris was still missing at dinner too, he went to his room and loaded his gun. He made sure to put extra cartridges in his pocket and hurried back down the stairs. As he left the house he shouted at Mrs Jones to get the police and tell them that Vernon Storey was back and that he's got Iris.

-

Frank put his poaching and tracking skills to good use. From the look of things, Storey had snatched Iris as she walked to the upper field that morning after breakfast. He followed the trail to an old derelict and overgrown shepard's hut.

He could hear voices inside from his vantage point, at the edge of the clearing next to the hut.

Frank crept up to it's side and carefully peered in through a window. Storey had a hold of Iris, he was waving a knife and shouting at her. _Fuck!_ Frank went to move round to the back of the hut, he'd decided to try and surprise Storey. He clumsily knocked over a rock in his rush to get to Iris. _Damn!_

"I know that's you Frank Tucker! Come over here where I can see you!"

Frank walked round the building. Storey was holding Iris in front of him, his knife to her throat. The whole of the front of the hut has fallen away. The ground was littered with stones and bricks. Rubble from the hut's collapse.

"Let her go Vernon," he growled. "This is just between me and you."

"Put that gun down and I'll think about it!" Storey retaliated.

Frank took the cartridges out of his gun, threw them to the side and placed his gun on the floor. He stood and held his hands wide in surrender.

"I think I'll hang onto this one after all!" Vernon Storey sneered, tightening his grip on Iris. "I've seen you moon about the village after this slip of a girl! I've been watching you both for a while now. What a disgusting show!" he spat. "You took my son from me, now I'll take something from you in return!! You can be together in death!!!"

 _He's completely mad_ , thought Frank.

"I won't let you hurt the woman I love, Vernon," he said calmly.

"Only one person killed your son. And that person was you," Frank continued. _Only one thing to do with a mad dog_ Frank thought. _And that's to corner it and put it down._

"You killed your own son Vernon Storey. His blood is on your hands. No one else's."

Storey went crazy at that. He removed the knife from Iris's throat and pointed it at Frank.

"No! You and your brother killed my son!"

Iris took the opportunity given, now the knife is moved, and bit down hard on the hand Vernon Storey held her with.

"Bitch!" he shouted and shoved her to the ground roughly.

After a quick glance at Iris to check she's moving, Frank didn't wait to take his chance. He pounced on Storey. They scuffled. Each trying to wrestle the knife out of the other's grip.

Vernon slashed Frank's hand, and pushed him down to the ground as he's distracted by the wound. Storey has Frank pinned and the knife held at Frank's throat now.

"Say goodbye to her Frank Tucker!"

Iris can't let this happen. She got an old brick and **SMACKED** it into the side of Vernon Storey's head. He went limp and Frank rolled him off of himself. He checked for a pulse. Nothing. He's dead. Iris is still holding the brick and crying.

"I couldn't let him hurt you Frank! I just couldn't!"

Frank went over to her and took the brick out of her hand, throwing it away to the side. He pulled her in for a hug. His hand held her head closely to him as she sobbed, murmuring softly to her.

-

They walked to the police station together and gave their statements.

-

They're back at the farmhouse now. Iris is re-wrapping Frank's injured hand. The doctor from the Loxley Manor hospital had been called to the police station to stitch the cut. But Iris wanted to check Frank's wound as the bandage had become red with blood again by the time they got back to the house.

She's sat next to him at the kitchen table. His hand finally re-bandaged to her satisfaction, but she didn't let go of it. Instead she held it tight and looked up at him, tears again filled her eyes.

"Did you mean what you said Frank? Back there?" she asked quietly.

"What I said, Iris?"

She nodded, then continued, "Yes. That you love me?" she whispered.

He smiled and took both of her hands in his.

"Yes Iris. I love you, with all my heart, with all I have," he chuckled. "How could I not? You've made a semi honest man out of me."

"Semi?" she asked.

"Well, i won't give up my poaching, not yet anyway. I've never seen you turn your nose up at a nice rabbit stew eh?" They both laugh at that.

"Besides," he said. "That's twice now that you've saved my life Iris Dawson."

He cupped her cheek with his good hand and leant towards her, pulling her in for a kiss. He put all his love behind that kiss. Only moving away when he heard Mrs Jones _ahem_ behind them.

"I'd best get knitting then," Mrs Jones teased. "I expect there'll be babies soon enough."

Iris blushed furiously. Frank smiled, shaking his head at Mrs Jones. She's such an annoying woman, but he ought to thank her really though. As, without her help, he wouldn't have been kissing the beautiful girl in front of him.

"You'll make an honest woman out of her first though Frank Tucker, or there'll be me to answer to!"

"Don't worry. I'll go and speak to the Vicar first thing tomorrow," Frank said to Mrs Jones. He then turned to Iris.

"That is if you'll have me. As your husband Iris?"

Iris squeaked and threw her arms around his neck. Punctuating each one of her many _yeses_ with a small kiss to his face.

Mrs Jones stared at them, tutted, and left them to it. Laughter and giggles followed her out of the kitchen.


	15. Gossip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iris and Frank hear some gossip and create their own.

Iris was worried. She'd overheard some gossip.

_She's too young for him. A man like that needs someone with more experience to take care of his needs. Someone a lot better than that slip of a girl. He'll get bored of her soon enough._

_-_

She wasn't there for tea. Frank found her in the barn, crying, sobbing her heart out.

"Hey what's the matter, love?" he came and sat next to her, putting his arm around her pulling her into a tight hug.

"Hey, you can tell me," he peered down at her. He hated it so much when she was upset, he felt the strongest urge to make everything right for her as best he could.

He wondered if he needed to teach one of the young GIs from the nearby camp a lesson. He's not afraid of using his fists to defend her. He's often underrated, marked as an easy target, because he's not excessively brawny or young any more. But he's learnt a few dirty tricks along the way. He's not afraid to use them to teach the young bucks that his quiet experience always won, over their bravado and brashness. He'd left Walter Storey, who had youth and size on his side, lying on the floor with at the very least a bloody broken nose and several bruised ribs. While he'd walked away with just some bloodied knuckles and a few small cuts, scrapes and bruises. Years of poaching had also taught him enough skills to never get snuck up on.

"If one of the young lads from the American base or from Hoxley manor has upset you, I can go and set him straight easy enough," he said.

She shook her head. "No Frank, it's not that."

She hesitated before continuing, fidgeting with her hands which he knows means she's nervous. He took her hands in his and squeezed them gently to urge her on.

"I know nothing good can be found out from overhearing, but I can't help feeling that maybe there's some truth in what I heard…?"

He asked her gently what it is that she's heard. He can feel his temper rising, but he needed to tamp it down, to concentrate on comforting Iris right now. He can save his temper for later, for whatever he needs to do to fix this.

Iris told him.

"Oh my silly sweet darling. I love you just as you are. Including your innocence. And just because you're inexperienced now, it doesn't mean you will be once I've finished with you." He gave her a devilish grin at that last part, which made her smile and giggle, just as he'd hoped.

"I adore you just as you are, love," he repeated and kissed the tip of her nose, then continued. "Do you know what it does to me knowing that I'll be your first and only? God! I've been _that_ close to laying you down in the hay or in the orchard or even having my way with you in the kitchen. But I want our first time together to be somewhere special. Somewhere that I can take my time with you. Make sure you never forget how good your first time with me was. We've got plenty of time afterwards to make use of every room in the farmhouse and all the spaces outside," he winked at her.

She looked up at him from under her eyelashes and gave him a heated smile. He thought that she might not be as innocent as before. Before she knew him. He congratulated himself on that, that he'd taught her these things. That, thanks to him, she is now starting to learn how to make his blood sing. He leant in and kissed her deeply. Enjoying her little mewling noises and the sigh as he pulled away.

"I may know about some things love, but I'm just as inexperienced as you in others. You're also my first too in many ways," she looked up at him at that, a frown of confusion on her face.

She knew he'd been with women before. She had already shyly asked him about that.

"I've never had a relationship last more than a few weeks at most," he continued, "I've never been in love before," he added quietly. "And I've definitely never courted anyone!" He gallantly kissed the back of her hand at this. She giggled. He leant in closer to her.

"Shall I let you into a secret, love?"

She nodded.

"I was so certain that you'd spurn any of my clumsy attempts towards you. That you'd just think me an old fool playing at romance. I've never had the opportunity to do anything like that for anyone before. Never picked flowers or won prizes or bought gifts for a girl!"

She smiled again at him and cupped his cheek, then reached up to kiss him.

 _This is a new thing_ , he thought. She'd always let him lead when it came to initiating deep kisses like this. She'd ever been free with her little pecks and touches, but, up until just now, she'd never done this.

He growled, a feral noise, and pulled her into his lap, wanting to get closer still to her. This new boldness of hers has him wanting to completely abandon what he said earlier and to just take her now, in the hay. He finally pulled away from her, they're both panting, catching their breath. They rested their foreheads together. He stroked the side of her face gently.

"God love! You'll undo me!" He reluctantly pulled her off of his lap and brought her tightly against his side, holding her close with one hand, while the other of his joins with one of hers.

"Never doubt my love for you. I'm not going anywhere. In fact, I'm the one who should be feeling insecure," he said quietly. "You're not the only one who's heard something they don't like…"

She looked up sharply at his admission.

"Tell me," she asked.

"The most oft comments I've heard are ones saying that I'm too old for you. Which I probably am love..." She shushed him, dropping kisses all over his hand.

"Did my kiss not show you how much I love you?" she asked. It's now her turn to reassure him away from his worries.

"I'd pick you any day over any of the others, including all those GIs and other young soldiers," she told him. "You know how to take care of me, to be kind and gentle but strong too. You didn't hesitate to step in when Walter tried to have his way with me," she paused, remembering. "I meant it when I said then that you are twice the man he was. You're twice any man I've met or have ever to meet."

She stroked his stubble dropping her voice to a whisper. "One of the other girls told me how she was forced by one of the Americans." she shook her head. "I know you'll never hurt me like that. You may growl and bark sometimes, but knowing that I can trust you in all ways is such a relief for me. I've seen what other men can do… hurting without cause," she frowned at that. She shook her head again. "No. I don't see your age, I see your gentleness with me. Your experience," she smiled up at him and gently stroked his cheek again. "And most of all, I see your handsome face, smiling at me," she beamed lovingly up at him.

Frank chuckled, "I think you may need to see an optician love."

She swatted his hand and called him silly. Then she leant in, asking for another kiss.

-

They don't leave the barn till the sun has set. Dinner's long cleared away.

-

Iris hatched a plan. She told Frank about it the next morning. He laughed and reminded her that he'd always known how clever she was right from when they'd first met.

-

Lady Loxley is holding a fete in the manor grounds. There are stalls for people to buy and sell. All proceeds will be for her favourite charity. A marquee has been set up with a brass band and a dance floor set down inside. Iris pulled Frank into the middle of the dance floor, weaving around the dancing couples. They stop. He can tell she's nervous as she's gripping his hand tighter than usual.

"Are you sure about this love?" he asked. She nodded in reply and placed a hand on his shoulder.

_That's my que._

He pulled her as close to him as he could, with a hand at her waist and cupped her cheek with his other. She wound her hands round his neck.

He winked at her, then kissed her. Properly. Thoroughly. One of his toe curling, deep, beautiful kisses that made her feel all tingly low down. He put everything he felt about her into that deeply passionate kiss, right in front of everyone there.

The band stopped playing. The couples stopped dancing and Frank and Iris are left in a space of their own in the middle of the dance floor.

He pulled away, broke the kiss reluctantly and leant down, he whispered in her ear if that is what she had in mind? She nibbled her bottom lip and nodded.

He took her hand and they walked off the dance floor accompanied by a flurry of loud applause and wolf whistles. She giggled as they walked away, back to the farmhouse.

-

Now the village busy bodies will have something _new_ to gossip about. He'll be expecting a summons to Lady Loxley's office. But, it was worth it as he looked over at Iris. She's bouncing along swinging his arm, their hands clasped together. Her smile up at him is dazzling! She's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.


	16. A New Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank consults Iris and thinks on a possible future.

A new name is needed for the farm. Lady Hoxley doesn't want any associations with the dead murderer Vernon Storey, so the name 'Storey Farm' has to go.

-

So, Iris and Frank are sat together, under their apple tree, debating what the farm's new name should be.

The simplest thing would be to call it 'Tucker Farm' he suggested. Frank has been _officially_ appointed the tenant farmer here by Lady Hoxley.

-

He received a summons to her office, as expected, after the fete. But not for the reason he thought he would be.

She'd had all the paperwork drawn up, she just needed him to sign the lifetime tenancy agreement, if he so agreed of course.

 _Silly damn question_ , he thought.

Once he'd signed, she'd wished him, and his soon to be wife, a happy and long life there. She even said that she was glad for them both. Telling him that there was little enough to make people smile these days like their _display_ at the fete had.

So he hadn't escaped a mention of _that_ all-together. But there was no telling off or reprimand, which is what he was bracing himself for on the walk up to the manor house. All the excuses he'd thought of were unnecessary.

 _Maybe she wasn't that bad after all? Well, for an aristo_ he supposed.

-

Iris hummed and agreed that 'Tucker Farm' would work. But, maybe they needed something with more meaning…? Something that would last the generations, that would give their children something to ask about?

He smiled at the mention of children. He'd seen that Mrs Jones had already started her knitting, as promised. And now he often found himself imagining Iris round with his child. An image that brought pricklings of tears to his eyes. Two somethings that he'd never imagined would ever happen to him. Admittedly there were no children yet. But he's sure he and Iris would certainly enjoy _making_ them, if the way their kisses were becoming more heated was anything to go by…

"Do you have anything in mind," he asked her.

"No, not yet," she replied.

He looked up at their initials that he'd carved into the tree above them.

He smiled at her and stood up. He took his penknife out of his pocket and carved a heart around the two sets of initials.

He'd dared not do that before, when he'd first carved into the tree. Not knowing at that point if she felt for him what even he was unsure of at that time. But now he's sure of their love, of their feelings for each other.

He grinned down at her once he'd finished. She pulled him down back next to her and smiled lovingly up at him.

"What about 'Apple Tree Farm'?" she asked.

"Apple Tree Farm it is then love." he agreed.

Some celebratory kisses for a job well done are in order for his clever, almost, wife he thought.


	17. A Secluded Hideaway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iris and Frank find a beautiful place to escape to.

Frank had borrowed a motorcycle for the day. They were currently whizzing down a country lane, Iris clinging on tightly behind him. She had no idea where the machine came from, and she wasn't going to ask.

She also had no idea where they were going, but he seemed to know where he was heading to, so that was fine with her too. She absolutely trusted him.

He turned sideways to her.

"Hold on tight Iris, we're turning off the road."

She clung on, her arms around his middle as they turned down a dirt track. They continued on until Frank stopped the bike. He turned and asked her to hop off.

"Are we there?" she asked.

"Not yet, almost tho. Just got to push the bike for a bit as it's too bumpy to ride."

He pushed the bike off the dirt track and onto a smaller trail going into the woods lining the track. They walked for a while until he stopped.

"Wait there a minute love. I won't be long."

He pushed the bike and himself through the hedge in front of him. He wasn't gone long, when he came back through.

"Come on love," He held a hand out for her, holding the hedge apart for her. They finally popped out and into a beautiful glade.

He turned to the motorcycle which he had parked next to the hedge they'd just come through and grabbed the blanket and food from the panniers. He held his hand out for her to take.

They stepped into the sun. She gasped. The glade was truly beautiful. Full of buttercups, with the sun streaming in from the gap in the canopy above. They were surrounded by hedges and trees on all sides.

A secluded hideaway.

Frank spread the blanket in the middle and motioned for Iris to sit upon it. He placed the picnic things next to them and sat next to her.

"How did you know about this beautiful place Frank?" she asked quietly.

"Well, I've known about it for a while," he pointed to the edge of the glade they'd come from. "Over there is a good place to hide as deer tend to use this glade to graze."

-

Iris sighed happily. They'd had their picnic and were now relaxing, enjoying the peace together.

Iris was lying, cuddled up next to Frank on the blanket that he had spread out for them. She lay with her head on Frank's shoulder, her hand on his chest and one of her legs over his. He was lying on his back, his legs stretched out and his arms crossed behind his head. He had his eyes closed and was enjoying the feeling of Iris cuddling close to him and the warm sun heating his face.

He felt a shadow go across him and opened his eyes to see Iris leaning over him. She was playing with his hair, stroking and petting him, exploring his face. He moved one of his arms, reaching up to cup her face, pulling her down for a kiss. She sighed into his mouth. Their kissing got very heated very quickly. He pulled away, panting.

"Can we try something different today love?" he asked her. _Please say yes_ he silently pleaded. He'd been wanting to do this with her for a while now.

She bit her lip and nodded.

"Don't worry love. There's nothing to be nervous of. You'll enjoy it. I promise. I've not lied yet about anything have I?"

"No Frank, everything you've done has been wonderful."

He preened at that.

-

He'd said she'd enjoy it and he was right. She felt so happy right now. She was still tingling from his ministrations. She blushed when she thought of what he'd done with his _mouth_ on her _down_ _there_. Blushing again as she also remembered how she'd then helped him with his release.

After putting her clothes back on and fixing her hair, she went to sit by Frank. He was fast asleep, lying on his back, his arms crossed behind his head as a pillow. Mirroring his pose earlier.

She happily watched him for a while. He looked so beautiful asleep. Relaxed. Content. He often had a crease worrying his brows recently.

Running the farm was a big step up from being a farm hand. She made a mental note to ask him how she could help more. 

They often still sat in the barn at night, one of them reading the other a poem from his book. He'd told her that her writing and reading was up to standard now. That was all thanks to him. So maybe she could help him with the account books?

She reached out and picked some buttercups, making a chain. Singing softly to herself while she did so.

-

As I walk'd thro' the meadows  
To take the fresh air,  
The flowers were blooming and gay;  
I heard a fair damsel so sweetly asinging  
Her cheeks like the blossom in May.

Said I, Pretty maiden, how came you here  
In the meadows this morning so soon?  
The maid she replied: For to gather some may,  
For the trees they are all in full bloom.

Said I: Pretty maiden, shall I go with you,  
To the meadows to gather some may?  
O no, sir, she said, I would rather refuse,  
For I fear you would lead me astray.

Then I took this fair maid by the lilywhite hand;  
On the green mossy bank we sat down;  
And I placed a kiss on her sweet rosy lips,  
While the small birds were singing around.

And when we arose from the green mossy bank,  
To the meadows we wander'd away;  
I placed my love on a primrose bank  
While I pick'd her a handful of may.

Then early next morning I made her my bride,  
That the world might have nothing to say;  
The bells they did ring and the birds they did sing,  
And I crown'd her the sweet Queen of May.

-

She finished her song and looked over at Frank. His eyes were closed, but he was smiling.

"Are you awake Frank?" she asked quietly.

He opened his eyes and turned to her.

"Yes love. I've been awake a while, listening to you singing."

He reached for her hand and pulled her towards him. She happily snuggled up to him.

"Sorry I fell asleep," he said, reaching up to straighten the chain of buttercups she'd placed in her hair.

"You wore me out, you little minx!" he chuckled and kissed her hand. She giggled.

He sighed sadly, knowing it was time they got going, back to the farm. He wished for this day to never end, to stay here with her in their glade, happy and content.

"We'd best get packed up love. Time to go."

She sighed, echoing his sadness.

"I wish we could stay here forever Frank. I've never been happier."

"I know love, me too. But we can always come back again can't we?" He kissed her hand again.

"Come on love," he squeezed her hand and sat himself up.

"I'll take you back here again soon. After we are married. Then we can make love properly here," he promised with one of his wicked grins.

She giggled at him.

"I'd like that Frank. I can't wait till we are wed and can be together properly."

"Me either, love."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song : As I Walked Through The Meadow - A Traditional English Folksong of which many versions exist.
> 
> If you want to know what naughtiness happened in the middle of the glade, pls see chapter 2 of the next fic in this series (The Star to Every Wand'ring Bark). Pls note that that is an explicit rated fic.


	18. A Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank gets a surprise, gets a reunion, receives a gift, makes a proposal and is probably going to get a very sore head...

Frank is in one of the outhouse buildings that made up the farm. He was trying to sort through the myriad of old tools stashed away in a pile in the corner.

He sighed.

How the hell Storey had run this farm at a profit only God knew. Mind you, he had an inkling, especially after seeing the sorry state of repair of most of the farm equipment. Including that oh so annoying bloody tractor which he was _not_ going to let best him.

Half of the tools he'd already sorted through were rusted beyond repair, and he was not even a quarter of the way through the huge hoard of horrible things.

"Frank?"

Frank froze. He'd not heard that voice in a good while. He turned round slowly.

"Dennis? Is that you?"

"Yes. Frank. It's me."

They stared at one another for a few minutes. Frank stepped forward and joyfully fell into his elder brother's embrace.

They were close as brothers. Dennis had brought Frank up by himself. Frank never knew their father, he died before he was born. Their mother had died when Frank was only 6. His memories of her were hazy, the poem book being the core of them.

"I left notes in all our hideouts, and posted others to people I thought you might be staying with," said Frank.

"I was staying away from all those places. Just in case," answered Dennis. "But I heard, from a little bird, that Vernon was dead. Killed by some landgirl? Didn't sound right to me," he frowned. "So I thought I'd come and find out the truth for myself," he continued.

"So imagine my surprise when the next thing I found out, was that my younger brother was now the tenant farmer of Storey farm!"

Frank chuckled.

"It's a long story Dennis. Why don't you come into the house, warm yourself and have some tea and I can fill you in on what you've missed."

Dennis hesitated.

"I'm not sure Frank. Not sure of my welcome back in the village…"

"Don't you mind about that. He had it coming, after what he did," Frank frowned at that thought.

"Come on. I want you to meet someone," Frank urged his brother towards the farmhouse.

"Yes, I also heard that you were getting _married_ Frank," Dennis smiled at his brother.

Frank chuckled, "That's who I want you to meet."

The two brothers headed towards the farmhouse together.

-

The girls came streaming back from the farm just before tea. Iris saw that Frank was talking to an older man, the both of them sat at the end of the kitchen table, drinking ale, while Mrs Jones bustled about the room around them, trying to prepare dinner.

Iris smiled at Frank and thought to walk past, to leave them to their talking. But Frank beckoned her over.

"Iris! There's someone here I want you to meet!"

She went to stand by him and he pulled her over and sat her on his lap, causing Iris to let out a squeak of surprise.

"How many of those have you had?" Iris asked, pointing at the bottle of ale in his other hand. Frank chuckled and gave her a peck on her lips.

"Only a couple love," he winked and she giggled. He was being awfully cheerful tonight… She peeked at the other man who was shaking his head and smiling at them. Amusement playing across his face at their antics.

"Iris, this is my brother Dennis," Frank tipped his bottle in said brother's direction, who nodded in reply. "And Dennis, this is my beautiful fiancée Iris."

"Pleased to meet you Dennis," Iris held her hand out to him.

"Likewise," he answered, taking her hand and planting a kiss on her knuckles causing Iris to blush, Dennis to chuckle and Frank to utter a ' _hey!_ '.

Mrs Jones chose that moment to speak up.

"Come on you two, move your conversation into the lounge and let poor Iris get herself cleaned up from the farm." She shooed them all out. "And let me finish here or you'll have no supper!"

"Oh you're a harsh woman Mrs Jones. Lovely, but harsh," Dennis winked at her.

"Oh! Less of your foolery Dennis Tucker!" Frank sniggered and Iris hid a smile behind her hand. "Go on, out with you, the pair of you!" she waved her tea towel in their direction.

Frank gave Iris a peck on the lips as she went upstairs, and the two brothers went through to the lounge, liberating some more bottles of ale from the pantry on their way past.

-

Dinner that night was a boisterous affair. The brothers delight at being reunited was infectious.

There were many stories of Frank's youth that Iris would do her very best to try and remember.

Mrs Jones had a few to add about them both as she'd grown up here in the village as they had.

From what Iris could make out, they were a couple of tearaways and trouble makers!

She smiled, enjoying seeing Frank so free and easy. Alternately smiling and laughing and shaking his head, at the remembered tales.

-

It was soon just the two brothers left in the kitchen as the others went to their beds. Iris had kissed Frank a sleepy goodnight, stifling a yawn, the last of their companions to head upstairs.

"You sly old dog Frank Tucker!" Dennis said once it was just the two of them. "She's beautiful. I can see why you fell for her," he paused. "She really loves you."

"Yes. She does," Frank admitted quietly.

"Do you have anything stronger?" Dennis asked as he motioned to his empty ale bottle.

"I think there's still a bottle of carrot whiskey from Farmer Finch in the pantry."

He got up and went to rummage in there and came out with an unlabeled, dusty looking bottle. He grabbed two glasses and poured them each a generous portion.

"I'm not too sure what happened, how I ended up here, a tenant farmer and about to be married!" Frank chuckled as he sat back down and took a sip of the whiskey.

"Don't think I have to ask if you love her, from what I saw of the two of you tonight," he smiled at his brother.

Frank smiled back. "She got to me good and proper Dennis," he shook his head to himself.

"Truth is, I don't know what I'd do without her now." He'd never said that thought out loud to anyone before, and he stopped and took a larger mouthful of the whiskey to still his nerves at the admission.

"I had another reason for seeing you Frank, once I heard you were to be married."

Frank looked up at his brother, intrigued by his sudden seriousness.

"I wanted to see for myself first though. You and her. Together. To see what sort of match it was. If it was some sort of arrangement." He said and took a swig of whiskey. "Or love."

Dennis reached down inside the collar of his shirt, pulling on some twine that was tied around his neck. He pulled the twine necklace up and over his head. He held it up. Threaded through the twine was a gold band.

"Mother's wedding ring," Dennis said. "For you and Iris." He held the ring out towards his brother.

"Dennis? What…?" Frank was lost for words. "No, I can't… it's the only thing you have of her."

Dennis shook his head. "I've no use for it. No lovely bride to give it to. No children to hand it down to and to give the Tucker name to."

He took Frank's hand and dropped the ring into it. Closing his hand around the ring and holding Frank's closed hands in both of his.

"That's your job now little brother."

"Thank you Dennis." Frank was choked, close to tears. He downed his whiskey in one go and poured another.

"Will you stay for the wedding?" Frank asked his brother. "I could really use your help around the farm. Storey let the place fall to half ruin, and the machinery is mostly knackered."

"I'll stay for a while Frank. If that's ok." He poured them both another drink.

"To you and Iris," he raised his glass in a toast to his brother and his soon to be sister in law.

They finished their glasses and Frank poured another, finishing the bottle off. "To mother," Frank raised his glass.

"Mother." Dennis replied.

They would both have very sore heads in the morning Frank thought... But he didn't care.

His brother was back. His small family was reunited again. And soon to be added to he hoped.


	19. The Bear and The Maiden Fair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iris finds something she really, REALLY likes...

Frank stood in front of her, brandishing a pair of scissors.

"I need your help Iris."

"Er… Yes?"

He held the scissors out towards her. She took them, puzzled as to what he wanted. They were very small, pointy sharp scissors. She looked up at him.

"Um… What do I need these for?" she asks, confused.

"I need a haircut. And I'm not paying that barber, when you can do it for free," he smiled at her.

"You do know I've never actually cut anyone's hair before," she said. "What if I mess it up?!"

"Oh you'll be ok. Nothing to it love!" He said cheerfully.

Iris sighed.

"Alright… Um, I need to find you somewhere to sit, so I can reach you."

She looked around. There were some old crates ready for breaking up for firewood in a corner of the yard. "How about over there?" she said and pointed at them.

"Well spotted, love!"

They headed over and tidied the pile of crates up, until there was something resembling a bench. Frank sat. Iris stood in front of him, frowning.

"Something wrong Iris love?" Frank asked.

"Um, you need to take your shirt off. So the hairs don't go in it, or you'll be all itchy for days!"

"Oh! Good idea!" He said and proceeded to divest himself of his waistcoat, shirt and vest.

Iris froze.

She'd not seen Frank completely shirtless before.

She knew his forearms were hairy, as he'd always had his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. She'd also put her hands up inside his shirt before, but that had been to touch his back, which was hairless.

But now she'd an absolute eyeful of his naked chest and tummy. _His front was absolutely covered in HAIR!_ She scanned her eyes lower. The hair thinned out under his chest to a dark line going down towards his tummy, then spread out again in another hairy patch all around his belly button. The hair then disappeared into the top of his trousers…

She could feel the heat of a blush forming as she stood still and _looked_.

"Are you ok, love?" Frank asked, a smile playing on his face.

Iris snapped her eyes back up to his face. "Oh, um, yes... yes, er I'm fine Frank."

_Concentrate on his hair… On_ _his head…!_

Iris took a deep breath and walked behind him to start trimming the back of his head. She hummed happily as she worked. Frank had lovely soft hair. She took the opportunity to stroke his head and comb her fingers through his hair as she worked. She was rewarded with soft contented sighs from Frank. She smiled. She'd have to remember this, that he liked his hair being played with.

She'd done the back and sides, rewarding his ears with little pecks as she worked too. Now she just had the front to do. She moved to stand in front of him.

"Um, you'll have to move your legs a bit, so I can reach you," she told him.

He moved his legs to the side. That wouldn't work, she thought.

"Er no, open them I mean. So I can stand between them...?"

He did so and she nestled in-between his legs. He placed his hands on her waist and grinned up at her. She smiled down at him and then set about her task. She forced herself to not look down, even though she really really _really_ wanted to. She snuck a peek down at Frank's chest. _Oohhh_ , she soooo wanted to run her fingers through his chest hair. _Did it feel different or the same as his head hair?_

Frank noticed that Iris had stilled again...

"Iris? Are you ok?"

She snapped her eyes back up to meet Frank's again. He was grinning at her. _She was caught!_ She felt her blush rising. She finished his haircut, not looking down again so as not to distract herself. She dropped her hands down when she'd finished. Brushing his handsome face free of loose cut hair.

Frank took the scissors out of her hand and placed them behind him on the crate where he was still sat. Then he leaned around Iris and behind himself too, looking all around, checking if anyone was about. _No one. Good._ He turned back and looked up at Iris, a cheeky grin on his face. He took her hands, and placed them on his bare chest.

"Go ahead," he said. "You've been dying to since I took my vest off." His lovely eyes were sparkling with amusement.

She smiled shyly at him, then looked at her hands on his chest. She splayed her fingers. They were surrounded by hair. She tried flexing her fingers, gently trapping his chest hair. She decided that this hair was a lot courser than that on his head. Frank placed his hands on her hips again and pulled her closer. She smiled down at him and bit her lip. He smiled back up at her, a chuckle forming.

"Is that what you wanted love?"

She nodded and giggled.

"You're so… _hairy!_ " The last word was whispered excitedly. She ran her fingers through his chest hair again, enjoying the feel of it under and between her fingers. Feeling brave, she ran a finger round one of his nipples. She heard him suck in a breath. She pulled her hands away and looked down at him.

"It's ok love, they're a bit sensitive is all. You'll get me all hard if you carry on playing there like that. And much as I'd really enjoy that, we'll have to move soon, it's not exactly private out here." He winked at her.

She giggled and nodded. That bit of information she would store away for later use. She knew what he could do to her when he played with _her_ nipples. Licking and sucking them until they were little hard nubs, and she was all hot and bothered with want. _I'll enjoy doing the same to him_ , she thought wickedly.

She stole one last touch and then ran one of her hands down the dark line of hair from his chest. _This hair was softer…_ She was completely fascinated by this revelation.

She decided that she definitely liked hairy Frank.

He grabbed her hands and kissed them both.

"You'll have to save your exploration for another time love. I'd best get dressed before someone comes."

She nodded and collected the scissors as Frank stood up. He gave his hair a quick brush through with his hands to get rid of any loose cut hairs. Then he brushed his front and arms down with his vest to rid himself of any more cut hairs. He handed her his vest so she could do the same to his back. She stood away a bit and shook his vest out to rid it of any hair, then handed it back to him.

She stole longing looks at his bare _hairy_ chest and tummy while he put his vest and shirt back on. His waistcoat remained off, to be put back on later, after he'd had a quick wash to get rid of any errant cut hairs. His shirt was left _teasingly_ open at the collar so she could still see some hair peeking out of the top at her. _He really was a beautiful man._

She sighed. Frank chuckled at her and took her hand to lead her back to the farmhouse.

"Don't worry love, you'll get plenty of opportunities to explore me all over soon enough."

She bit her lip, and considered whether to ask him or not… _Be brave_ she thought.

"Is there anywhere else that you're hairy?" She whispered to him.

He laughed. "Yes love, there certainly is," he grinned wickedly at her. He leaned closer to whisper in her ear. "I've a whole lot of hair for you to run your fingers through… _lower down_." He grinned at her _wickedly_.

A bright blush and a gasp from Iris was his reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hairy men eh? Heehee ;0)
> 
> If you are curious, do a google for 'Martin Goodman' who is Paul Ritter's hilarious character from 'Friday Night Dinner'. He topless a lot of the time as he's always 'Bloody boiling!'.
> 
> The Chapter title is, of course, from a ribald song from GRRM's ASOIAF series. Go and do a google for that too. It'd be one of Mrs Jones favourites, if she'd heard it...


	20. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories - good and bad, new and old.
> 
> Please note that this chapter deals with WWI and it's associated imagery. No gore.

Iris didn't know. _I should have. His age should have given me a clue. How could I have not known?_ she chastised herself.

-

In the end it was Frank's brother, Dennis, who had told her. Told her why he was so angry.

-

It had been a bad day. One of the tups had escaped. It was found tangled in some barbed wire. All the older men had gone very quiet upon seeing the poor animal. It was so badly injured that it needed to be put out of its misery. Frank quietly said that he would deal with it. Everyone else had left. Mr Rogers had told her to leave too. But she wouldn't. She'd waited by the animal's side, trying to comfort it, as she waited for Frank to return from the farmhouse with his shotgun. He'd killed the sheep quickly, not wanting it to suffer any longer than necessary.

That's when he'd turned on her, asking her what the hell she was still doing here. She'd not seen him that angry before. Ever. He'd spurned all her attempts to comfort him, and had shouted angrily at her to just leave him be. She'd run, crying, back to the farm. She'd run full tilt into his brother just outside the farmhouse.

She'd told him what had happened. He'd sighed.

That's when he'd told her.

Frank was a dispatch rider in the last year of the great war. She knew that he, Dennis, had been in service during that war, but had not known that Frank was too. He'd never said anything to her about it.

Dennis told her that many men hated talking about it.

He quietly told her that one of the many horrors, out there on the front had been seeing others lose their lives strung out on the horrid barbed wire that had been strewn all along 'no man's land'. Often hanging alive for days, with no one being able to reach them to help. Having to watch and hear their pleas but knowing that you had to leave them.

Iris had cried her heart out at that.

She hid in the barn, only coming out when Mrs Jones came to fetch her in. Soothing her. Telling her that men affected by the horrors of the Great War often didn't talk about it. Just like Dennis had said.

She told her that Frank wasn't really angry with her, but with the tup for bringing those memories back to him. She told Iris that Frank would be back soon and took her back into the kitchen to wait for him there.

-

Frank had only come back once it was dark and well past midnight. His knuckles were bloodied and raw.

He sat at the kitchen table next to Iris who was sitting there, nursing a cup of tea.

"Frank…?"

"Hello Iris, love. I didn't think you'd wait up for me. I hoped, but..." He sighed.

"Of course I'd wait for you Frank. I couldn't _not_ do so," she reached over and touched his cheek gently.

Frank sighed again.

"My hands need cleaning, but I need you to do something for me first, love," he asked.

She nodded in reply.

"Could you go and get my poetry book from the bedside cabinet in my room please? And also the small box hidden under it. It might help explain why I was the way I was earlier."

She brought both down to him. He put the book aside and opened the box. It contained two military medals. Both from the great war and both with his name on them.

He'd closed the box then. Not saying anything more. She'd not asked him. He'd no need to explain further.

"Could you please clean my hands now, love. I think they're full of splinters."

"A tree?" She'd asked quietly.

He nodded.

"Then after, maybe you could read me something?" he motioned to his poetry book.

She nodded and got up to boil the kettle and fetch the first aid kit that Mrs Jones kept in the kitchen.

She'd then sat and tended his wounds. It took a while to get rid of all the splinters, with lots of digging around even after soaking his hands in warm water. He'd not flinched once. Not even when she'd applied the horrid iodine to clean his wounds.

He sighed deeply when she'd finished. His hands wrapped neatly in clean bandages. He took both of her hands in his.

"I'm sorry Iris. Sorry I shouted at you. I'm not proud of myself for taking my temper out on you."

She lifted one of his poor hands, the hands she loved so much, and kissed it.

"You don't have to apologise Frank. I didn't understand. Everyone else had given you your space. Old Mr Rogers even tried to tell me to leave you be, but I didn't listen. I didn't realise," she paused. "Dennis told me."

He sighed again.

"No Iris, I've absolutely no excuse for taking my anger out on you. I was so angry with myself. I'd been meaning to clear the wire away all summer. It's on the long, never ending list of jobs needed to bring this farm back up to scratch. But that stupid bloody sheep had to go and escape and get itself caught there." He sighed yet again and squeezed her hands with his.

"It brought back such horrible memories, love. Memories I'd buried away, never wanting to know about again," he shook his head, looking down and frowning.

"You could replace them Frank. With new ones. Memories. I could maybe help you… if you want?"

He looked up, his frown gone, replaced by a smile.

"You've already given me lots of happiness. More than I'd ever believed a man like me could deserve. But I'm sure I've room for making a few more memories, with you, love," he paused and pointed at the poetry book. "Pick one love, and read to me?"

"Oh! I'd forgotten. Yes Frank, of course."

She leaned over and reached for the book. Once she had it, he pulled her to him so that she was sitting sideways on his lap, his arms wrapped tightly around her, his face cuddling into her neck, breathing her in. She leaned her head back against him and flicked through the book. Stopping at her favourite.

-

**Sonnet CXVI**

Let me not to the marriage of true minds  
Admit impediments. Love is not love  
Which alters when it alteration finds,  
Or bends with the remover to remove:  
O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark,  
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;  
It is the star to every wandering bark,  
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.  
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks  
Within his bending sickle's compass come;  
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,  
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.  
If this be error and upon me proved,  
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

-

Iris finished and placed the book back upon the table. She could feel Frank breathing, he was leaning his face into her neck. She felt dampness there, where his face rested against her.

"Frank?" she queried quietly, "are you ok?"

"Yes, love. I'm fine. You chose a good poem," he looked up at her. He was smiling, but his wonderful eyes were swimming with tears. "Just got something in my eye, love," he smiled shyly.

"Oh Frank!" She cupped his cheeks, wiping the tears with her thumbs, "I'm sorry I made you sad."

"No love! I'm happy. Happy as a pig that's got a whole ocean of muck all to itself to wallow in!"

Iris giggled at his silliness. Relieved that he was alright.

He took her hands in his, kissing one palm, then the other. "I love you Miss Dawson. And if I hadn't already proposed to you, then I'd do it right now."

She put her arms around his neck.

"And if I hadn't already accepted your offer, Mr Tucker, I'd say yes right now," she leaned in and kissed him.

She put everything she felt about him into that kiss. All the wonderful joy she felt when he was with her. All the aching and longing she felt for him was in that kiss. All the sadness she felt, thinking she'd upset him today. All the fear she had when she thought Vernon Storey would kill him. All her love for him was there. Right there in that kiss.

She could feel his delight in their kiss. Feel his bliss at knowing she cared for him. All of his lust and want and need for her was there also. All the sadness at the thought he'd upset her today. All the fear that Storey would hurt her before he could rescue her from him. All the angst and heartache he felt before he knew that she felt the same as he did towards her. All his love for her was right there. In that kiss.

They broke apart, resting their foreheads against each other, smiling and panting.

"God Iris! If we had this house to ourselves, I'd make you my wife right now. I wouldn't wait, I'd have you _here!_ Right here on this kitchen table! Then I'd carry you upstairs, get you naked and sweaty beneath me in my bed and take you there again and again until we were both spent."

He kissed her again deeply and passionately. Finally breaking away again to take a breath.

"I'm not sure I can wait another two weeks to have you," he bucked up against her bottom to prove his point. "You've got me so _hard_ right now I could crack walnuts with my cock!" he grinned at her and she giggled at him.

"It's good to see you back to your usual cheeky self Frank." She smiled at him and stroked his cheek gently. "I thought I'd lost you for a while today… I wasn't sure if you'd come back to me, I was so worried for you…"

"Oh, love!" he kissed the end of her nose. "I'm like one of old Mr Rogers pigeons. I'll always come back. Never _ever_ fear about that." He kissed her again to salve her worries. This time he kissed her gently and tiredly, his want was subsiding as tiredness and the stress of the day's events were starting to catch up with him.

Frank looked up as the kitchen clock chimed three o'clock. He hadn't realised it was so late, _or early really_ he supposed.

"I'll light us a fire in the lounge and we can bed down on the sofa there for the night. I don't want to go upstairs and disturb everyone. Not with it being so close to their wake up time," he yawned.

They cuddled up on the sofa together, using the throw as a blanket. Each holding on to the other tightly as if scared that they would float away if they didn't.

Mrs Jones found them like that a few hours later when she came to start breakfast. She quietly got another blanket from upstairs and draped it over them. Frank's eyes were open and he mouthed a silent ' _thank you_ ' to her as she tucked them in. She smiled and added more logs to the fire. Then she closed the door between the kitchen and the lounge, telling the other girls to be quiet as the couple next door slept.

Frank closed his eyes and listened to Iris's soft snoring. He gently kissed her head. Drifting away thinking to himself that he didn't know that she snored, something to tease her about later he chuckled to himself.

There was still so much for them to learn about each other. He fell asleep smiling, thinking about how they had slept together! Maybe not in his bed and naked, which is what he so desperately desired. But still, they'd spent the night together for the first time.

He would remember this day and yesterday for many reasons, bad and good.


	21. Parachutes and Wedding Dresses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iris didn't have a wedding dress. Frank needed to fix that.

Iris didn't have a wedding dress. She was just going to wear one of her floral tea dresses, probably the one she'd worn to Connie's wedding she told Frank. She said that she wasn't bothered what she got wed in, as long as she was to wed him.

Frank's heart swelled at her sweet comment. But he still wished he had more money to buy her something new. He put this thought to the back of his mind for the time being as one of the Fletcher twins stuck their head round the barn door.

"Mr Tucker! Mr Tucker, a plane has crashed on your field and there's GERMANS!"

So that's what that was. He'd squinted up at the smoke earlier and had thought that it was one of the planes from the American Base nearby. It wouldn't be the first time the Yanks had missed the runway...

"Officer Greenson and the home guard have rounded the Jerrys up and sent us to go fetch you up to the top field," the other twin added.

He went and told Mrs Jones where he was going and that he'd be taking the truck, and shouted at his brother to join them. It was a bit of a squeeze in the cab with the Fletcher twins and his brother Dennis sat with him there, the twins cheerfully coming up with plans of what to do with the captured Germans. When they got to the top field, he sighed. The crashed bomber had made a right mess of his field. Ploughing a useless furrow along its length.

"That's going to be fun to clear away," Dennis said, airing Frank's thoughts.

"Hopefully It'd not be sat there for long until the 'sneaky beakys' came to collect it to go over it for ' _secrets_ '," he replied.

The five bailed out Jerrys had been rounded up by the local bobby and the home guard and were already being herded away. Apparently, one had to be fished out of the big old oak tree when he'd got stuck there, dangling by his tangled parachute.

The parachute was still fluttering from the tree. The tree under which he and Iris had shared many a kiss. It was her second favourite tree, the first being the apple tree. That thought made him smile and think wicked thoughts about the things that _that_ tree could tell if it could talk.

He looked up at the oak tree and a plan began forming in his mind… He frowned. _It'd be a job to get it out of there._ He'd best think of something quick to retrieve it though, before any of the other women found out about the free material.

He had to deploy the Fletcher twins along the smallest branches, who both thought it was a whole big adventure. Meanwhile, the truck was used as a platform for him and Dennis to stand on.

Eventually, he had his prize!

After dropping the twins back home, Frank went off to find Mrs Jones. He asked her to come and see something he had in the truck.

Mrs Jones _looked_ at him.

"And not like _that_ Mrs Jones, none of your double meanings now," he chuckled.

"I have no idea what you could be talking about Mr Tucker?" she gasped in false shock. "Lead the way please. Let's see what surprise you've got for me!" She winked at him and followed.

Frank showed Mrs Jones the forlorn, crumpled heap that was the remains of the parachute.

"Do you think that this could be of use. For Iris. With your help of course?" He waited, hopeful that she would say yes.

Mrs Jones pulled the fabric around, looking here at there, tutting and humming, giving it an experienced seamstresses critical attention.

"It's torn. There's staining. There's not much time," she looked thoughtfully. "But I think it could work. Bring it to the house Mr Tucker. I'll need to measure your Iris after supper tonight and see if there's enough for what I've in mind."

Frank nodded and smiled. He had a warm feeling inside at the way Mrs Jones had said ' _your Iris_ '. She was his, just as he was hers and all that would come to focus in a few weeks at the church.

Hopefully with her wearing a lovely new silk wedding dress.

 _Not that she'd be wearing it long_ , he thought wickedly. He was _especially_ looking forward to after the wedding, when everyone had left, and it was just the two of them. Then he could make her his, properly and thoroughly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parachute silk wedding dresses were a real thing during WW2. 
> 
> Go do a google to see some of the lovely creations that these resourceful women created!


	22. Lessons, Dancing and Otherwise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunting chairs can be tricky, as they travel in packs apparently...

Mrs Jones sighed happily, stating that Iris and Frank would make a handsome couple on their first dance.

"What??" Iris looked at her sharply. _A dance?_

"Stay still girl, I almost stabbed you with this pin!"

"Er...Connie never had a dance at her wedding…" Iris queried. Trying to stay still as Mrs Jones carried on with her alterations.

"Well, she never had a party afterwards did she? Not like you will be having. She just wanted to get on with personally educating her vicar in certain _bedroom_ activities," this last sentence was accompanied by a wink.

Iris blushed and thought of all the _educating_ that Frank had done with her already. She giggled and Mrs Jones gave her a knowing smile.

"That's why both Mr Tuckers are cleaning the yard out and have been gathering all that canvas for a makeshift marquee out there," Mrs Jones said. "The next job on their list, so I've heard, is to gather up a higgeldy-piggeldy mix of all sorts of chairs and tables. Your Frank mentioned that he'll be going round collecting from where anyone is willing to lend them, and storing them in the barn till they're needed," she continued.

Iris nodded, wondering exactly how many people were going to be there.

"Very resourceful those Tucker men. I mean look at this lovely silk!" Mrs Jones held up the corner of the dress she was working on.

"Um, you mentioned a dance?" Iris asked nervously.

"Oh, yes. You and Frank will be first to take to the floor, or yard in this case, you'll be leading the wedding dance."

Mrs Jones smiled and Iris fretted.

 _A dance? In front of everyone…?_ She bit her lip.

Mrs Jones sighed, figuring out the source of Iris's worry.

"Speak to Frank dear. He was a lovely dancer in his youth. Everyone wanted a dance from one of those Tucker boys. _Very_ resourceful, like I said," she smiled.

Iris nodded.

-

Frank had to say her name three times before Iris answered. He was standing in the doorway, smiling and watching her. She was standing at the sink, washing up forgotten, staring out of the window into the yard.

"What? Sorry Frank. I was miles away…"

"I could see. Something wrong love?" he asked, smiling at her curiously.

She shook her head and played with the water in the sink with her fingers.

"Um... is the er… yard clearing coming along well? Mrs Jones said you were hunting down chairs and tables?" she asked.

"Yes," he entered the kitchen and walked towards her.

"Tricky beasts chairs. Have to sneak up on them quietly, as they travel in packs." Iris giggled.

He came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her and began kissing her neck.

"What's bothering you, love? Tell me," he kissed her ear, "or there'll be consequences…" he nipped at her earlobe. This caused her to giggle.

"That's not exactly a threat, Frank," she put a hand on his cheek, turned her head and kissed him.

 _He certainly knows how to take my mind off things_ she chuckled to herself. _Very resourceful indeed!_ She chuckled aloud at that thought.

"Iris?" He pulled back and gave her a lopsided quizzical grin.

"Oh," she smiled, "it's just something Mrs Jones said."

Frank raised an eyebrow.

"She said that you Tucker men were very resourceful," she smiled at him.

Frank chuckled. "We have our ways and means," he smiled at her again. He turned her around so she was facing him.

"So. What's worrying you Iris?" he tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear, his hand lingering on her cheek. "Tell me love, I might be able to help? I can't help if you don't tell me though can I?"

Iris looked down and nibbled her lip. "Um, Mrs Jones said you could too. Help that is. Help me. She said you knew how. Properly. To dance. Like we'll have to. In front of them all. After the wedding. Out there."

Lots of mumbled and jumbled together sentences, but Frank got the idea of what she wanted. He put his hand under her chin and lifted her face. He smiled at her, running his thumb slowly along her freshly nibbled bottom lip, then leant in, nipping her bottom lip himself, before kissing her properly, thoroughly. She placed her hands around his neck and let his kiss melt her worries away. Frank pulled away, dropping a small kiss onto the tip of her nose.

"Don't worry Iris. I'll have you waltzing before the wedding! You'll be dancing so well, that no one will know that I've only just taught you." He smiled at the relief in her eyes as she looked up at him.

"Lessons in the front room tonight after tea," he promised. "Oh and there might be some dancing lessons afterwards too."

He dodged out of reach of her playful swat. Sending her a cheeky wink from the doorway, where he'd escaped to. She giggled and shook her head.

Frank Tucker was definitely a resourceful man. And also a man of many hidden talents.

She carried on with the washing up and watched him and his brother working out in the yard.

She bit her bottom lip, wondering what else he knew…?


	23. That #*"!@**## Tractor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A love/hate relationship with a Tractor.

There was a massive **BANG** , then loud clanking, grinding noises. Those were followed by violent, sputtering engine noises, more loud banging and then noisy revving accompanied by a big, black cloud of smoke, all topped off with some colourful swearing. The loud revving quietened, into normal engine noises. The swearing stopped, to be replaced by loud shouting, whooping, cheering and laughter.

Iris and Mrs Jones came running from the kitchen into the yard at the first bangs and clanks.

They now watched as Frank and Dennis were gleefully patting each other on the back, joyfully clapping, whooping and cheering loudly, all while pointing at the horrible farm tractor.

The tractor itself was standing innocently in the middle of the yard, puttering away gently, minding its own business, as if wondering what all the damn fuss was about.

"Look!" Frank shouted merrily at Mrs Jones and Iris. He was pointing happily and excitedly at the same tractor that had annoyed and plagued him for ages. The very same machine that had been taunting and teasing him, just not wanting to be fixed. Up until now that is...

"The bloody stupid, annoying, buggering, shitty bloody piece of crap tractor is _fixed_!" He shouted, throwing his hands up in the air in joy as his brother laughed and cheered.

Dennis cheered his brother loudly as Frank pulled Iris in for a hug, spinning her around, laughing, landing a kiss on her then putting her down and laughing some more.

Dennis was bent over laughing even harder now, pointing at Iris and shaking his head.

"Oh, you're in big, big trouble now little brother!" He shook his head again, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. He pointed at Iris some more, words failing him as he was wheezing and sniggering with mirth.

Both brothers looked at her. Then looked back at each other. Then exploded into another fit of loud laughter. The pair of Tucker men were now hanging off of each other in fits of hilarity, their faces creased up and each wiping tears away.

Iris smiled at them, their laughter was infectious. Then she paused as she finally noticed the state of them both.

Her smile vanished...

They were both _absolutely_ _covered_ in grimy oil patches and dust and dirt and God alone knew what else!

_Oh!_

The brothers stilled, watching her, seeing that Iris's face had fallen, her mouth opened in a wide 'o'. Their laughter had subsided, replaced with small chuckles, sniggers and elbow nudging between them as they watched Iris.

She reached up slowly, where Frank had kissed her and touched her face. She brought her hand back down and stared at it… Her hand was black with horrible engine oil.

_Oh!!!_

"Frank!" she shouted, high pitched and angry.

This brought about renewed fits of hilarity and reams of loud laughter from both men.

Mrs Jones watched all this from the safety of the kitchen door. Shaking her head and smiling at them all, chuckling at the brother's shared merriment over Iris's predicament. Their laughter was infectious and happy, a lovely balm for these trying times.

"I'd best get boiling some water then," Mrs Jones shouted, now shaking with mirth herself.

"Come here Iris love! I need a celebratory kiss for a job well done!" Frank shouted. He was grinning wickedly at her, stalking slowly towards her.

"Frank...?" Iris held her hands out to stop him, backing up a few steps.

"A kiss for the conquering hero?" Frank asked again, taking slow steps towards her, holding his hands out.

"Frank! You're _filthy_!" she backed away from him.

This brought more fits of laughter from both Dennis and Frank.

"Oh yes, I'm _absolutely_ filthy!" Frank answered, winking and smirking at her as he began advancing on her again.

"Stop Frank! Don't you _dare_!" she backed away from him slowly.

More laughter followed her shouted warning.

Frank lunged for her, but missed. Iris screeched and ran, putting the tractor between herself and him. Frank chased after her, and round and round the tractor they went. Him laughing merrily and her shouting at him to _stay away_ as he did so. Eventually they were both laughing and shouting silly threats at each other, joyfully chasing each other around the redeemed tractor in a merry game of tag.

Dennis chuckled and walked towards the kitchen door where Mrs Jones was standing and watching the happy couple at play. Iris's screeches and laughter mixing with Frank's own laughter and shouted taunts at Iris as he tried unsuccessfully to catch her.

"I guess I get first dibs on the hot water then, while the children play," he said happily, as he entered the kitchen. Mrs Jones turned to follow him in, to get the kettle on to boiling. She turned and found Dennis stood in the middle of the kitchen with tears in his eyes. She stopped and gave him a querying look.

"I'm sorry Mrs Jones. I don't know what's come over me," he shook his head, smiling but with tear filled eyes. "I've never seen him happier," he indicated towards Frank outside, still trying to catch Iris, their merriment filtering into the kitchen. "He had a hard upbringing, I wasn't the best for the job, but look at him now," he shook his head. "I've never seen such love as those two have for each other." He stopped and wiped his face.

"Hush now! Don't be so harsh on yourself, you've done a better job than most, by my reckoning." She smiled at him, then went to attend to the whistling kettle.

"I'll just go fetch some towels Mr Tucker. If you could bring the tin bath through," she pointed to the pantry where it hung on the wall.

She returned and left said towels on the kitchen table as he filled the bath for himself.

"Just leave your dirty clothes on the floor, I'll clean them later, once those two have finished their gallivanting," they both chuckled at that. "Your brother and Iris have brought much needed hope and happiness to this sorry old farmhouse Mr Tucker," she sighed and smiled.

"Dennis, please call me Dennis," he answered happily.

"Only if you call me Gytha," she smiled. "I'll leave you to it then, I've got a wedding dress to finish."

-

Frank watched a giggling Iris run across the yard and escape into the tack room. He followed swiftly on her heels, almost catching her. She tried to shut the door on him, unsuccessfully though as he barged in before she could. It was a small room, full of horse harnesses and smelling of the cleaner used on the brass and leather. "I've got you now, love! There's no escape!" he laughed as he went in after her.

He paused at the door, watching her giggling in the corner. She'd stopped and turned to face him, standing and smiling, looking at him, sending heated looks his way. He grinned at her and closed and locked the door, taking care to bar it shut.

He stalked up towards her, no laughter now from either of them, just smiling and the noise of heavy breathing from their exertions. She backed away, smiling at him. Her back hit the wall. He grinned and walked up to her, placing his hands flat on the wall on either side of her head. She placed her hands on his chest, gripping his shirt tightly. He lowered his face and touched his nose to hers, they were still panting, but not with exertion this time.

"I've got you now Iris," he said, his voice low and gravely, laden with want.

Iris's breath hitched, "Yes Frank, you do," she looked up at him, "what are you going to do now you've caught me?" she whispered breathily at him. She slid her hands up his chest, and wrapped them round his neck, her fingers playing with the short hairs at the back of his head. He grinned down at her wickedly, before kissing her deeply, their quiet moans filled the small room.

-

They sat for a short while, kissing and petting each other, holding each other close. Each basking in the afterglow of their own release and also happy in the pleasure of knowing they'd given to each other such a heady high.

Frank sighed happily.

"Best get sorted out and ready for our baths then," he said, reluctant to leave their cosy nest.

He stood and helped her up. Tucking himself back into his trousers and helping Iris to dress.

They exited the tack room and blinked in the bright sunshine again.

Iris giggled as she noted how mucky they both were.

Frank smiled and leaned towards her. "Shared baths once we're married," he whispered in her ear, causing her to blush and giggle again.

"You go on in and get cleaned first, give me a shout when you're done," he gave her a quick kiss then headed towards the handpump.

He took his dirty shirt and vest off and dunked his head under the cold water. Getting rid of the worst of the grease, oil and dust he'd got from mending the tractor.

He then went over to said tractor and switched off the idling engine. He patted it affectionately. Smiling to himself as he remembered that it was next to it that he'd first met Iris. How scared she was of him then, unlike now! He smiled at the thought of what she'd just done to him in the tack room. She'd completely undone him like no one had before.

Iris called out for him, and broke him from his happily lustful thoughts. He saw that she was wrapped in several towels and her voluminous old fluffy bathrobe as he neared her. Nothing visible of her except her face, her hands and her feet. _I'll have to get her something more dainty_ he thought, _and maybe more see-through_ his inner-most primal voice added.

"I've topped it up with fresh hot water for you," she pointed at the bath, "and there's more towels over there on the table," she pointed now at the fluffy towels.

"Mrs Jones says to add your dirty clothes to the pile of Dennis's and mine over there," she pointed again and happily accepted a kiss off him. She snuck a feel at his chest hair, stroking him lovingly, seeing as he was shirtless, then giggled and ran off upstairs before Mrs Jones could catch them.

He happily smiled at her little fixation and shook his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to know what naughtiness happened in the tack room, pls see chapter 6 of the next fic in this series (The Star to Every Wand'ring Bark). Pls note that that is an explicit rated fic.


	24. Something Old, Something New...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wedding traditions - Something old, new, borrowed, blue...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something old,  
> something new,  
> something borrowed,  
> something blue,  
> and a sixpence in her shoe.
> 
> The old item provides protection for the baby to come. The new item offers optimism for the future. The item borrowed from another happily married couple provides good luck. The colour blue is a sign of purity and fidelity. The sixpence — a British silver coin — is a symbol of prosperity or acts as a ward against evil done by frustrated suitors.

She had salvaged a scrap of leftover parachute silk, from the making of her wedding dress. She was sat in the living room, curled up in Frank's favourite chair, busy making a new handkerchief out of it.

Embroidered initials were placed in one corner, theirs, I and F intertwined together. _Just like we soon will be_ she thought happily. She sewed some wobbly daisies in the other three corners. She wasn't the best at sewing, but she knew he'd not mind. She smiled when she thought back to that first little posey that Frank had left on her bed. She had kept it, the happy little flowers were pressed between the pages of the old fairy tale book he'd gifted to her shortly after they had first met. Both were safely kept, tucked away in her bedside cabinet. They were her most prized possessions, along with her green headscarf that he'd bought her the night of the funfair. The same night when she'd first dared to kiss him… It took all of her courage to do that back then. Now though… They'd done so much more than _kissing_ … She blushed at that thought, pausing and thinking about what they still hadn't done together. What she wanted to do with him so very much.

She'd finished the small hanky just as Frank returned that evening. He'd waved her a tired greeting, only stopping to offer his dusty lips for her to drop a quick peck into when he'd finally staggered back from the fields. He'd wobbled upstairs some forty minutes ago, according to her glance at the mantle clock. She sighed. _He'd probably fallen asleep in his room… Again!_ He'd been doing that too often recently. What with all the extra work going on due to planting time coming up, and all the wedding preparations he'd been sorting out in-between that. She sighed, he'd refused any of her offers of help with that last one, saying that his brother and he had got everything well in hand.

-

She'd cornered him a week ago while he was _supposedly_ reading his newspaper in the sitting room after dinner. He had, in fact, fallen asleep behind it, his gentle snoring had given him away. She'd crept up to him, pulled his paper down and shouted his name out loud.

" _FRANK!!!_ "

"Wh….!!!" he'd almost jumped a foot in the air.

"Fucking hell Iris!" he glared at her, "you scared the ever-living shit out of me!"

"Sorry, Frank," she giggled. "But I couldn't resist!" she wagged her finger at him. "You've been working such long hours, between the farm and organising… You'd best not fall asleep on our wedding night!" she tutted.

He'd offered her the most wicked, toothsome grin.

"No danger of _that,_ love, I've been looking forward to _that_ for way too long now." He laughed at her squeak of shock as he grabbed her and pulled her into his lap. He pulled her closer and captured her lips with his, growling his want as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He bucked up into her, showing her _exactly_ how much he wanted her, how much he was looking forward to having her, how much he desperately _needed_ her.

" _Gods_ Iris…!" he panted as he pulled away, moaning as she wickedly ground herself into him. "You'll be the death of me, one way or another, love!" he chuckled and shook his head as she sighed and cuddled into him, resting her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her tightly and placed a kiss onto her forehead.

"Not long to wait now Frank… This time next week…" 

He grinned happily as he felt her smile against him. 

"No, love... Not long to wait… Still feels like bloody ages though!" he sighed.

Rattles, banging and voices in the kitchen announced the return of the others from the pub. Iris reluctantly stood up, giving Frank one last lingering kiss. She picked up his hastily discarded newspaper and placed it on his lap. Offering a parting grin over her shoulder as she went off into the kitchen to say hello and catch up on any gossip.

-

She took her new handkerchief, ran up the stairs and knocked on his door, waiting for him to reply. No answer. She knocked again, louder. She heard a sigh, then his befuddled, sleepy voice...

"Yeeesss? Whoisit...?" he shouted from inside his room.

"It's only me Frank. I just wanted to talk to you about something. It won't take long…" she waited for him to reply.

The door opened and his head appeared round the door. He swiped at his face, his eyes were red with sleep and his hair was all mussed up.

"Yes love, what's wrong?"

"Er… um… nothing's wrong," he was shirtless, just in his trousers, his braces hanging down. "Er…" her voice trailed off as her eyes skirted down his deliciously naked torso.

His chuckles snapped her thoughts back to her reason for being there and also snapped her eyes back up to his. She felt her face heat and knew she was blushing deeply.

She couldn't help it, Frank called it her 'fixation', her fondness and fascination with his chest hair. She really, _really_ couldn't help it - it was so intriguing, so beautiful! Just like him! Once he knew about it, her fixation, he deliberately left his top shirt buttons undone so some of his chest hair peeked out to catch her out, to attract her gaze like a moth to a hirsute flame.

"Hang on love," he went back into his room and pulled a vest and shirt on, "you just caught me having a quick clean up before tea," he shouted from over his shoulder. "I'm decent now, you can come in!"

Iris released the breath she didn't know that she was holding in and opened her eyes. Stepping into his room. It would soon be _their_ room. In just a week's time. The thought made her face heat again as she looked at the large double bed in the centre of his room. The one he was currently sitting on, and smiling up at her from.

"So, love. How can I help you?" He patted the bed next to him, and she sat down gingerly.

"I know it's, technically, supposed to be me holding, carrying all four things," she started.

"Things?" he asked.

"Oh, yes. You know, like in the rhyme - something old, new, borrowed and blue. Like in the wedding rhyme?"

"Oh! Yes, love! Which reminds me!" he stood up and walked round her, proceeding to rummage in his bedside cabinet. 

"Aha!" he exclaimed as he held up a coin. "For you, love. For your shoe," he handed her a silver sixpence.

"Oh! Thank you Frank!" she accepted it, smiling widely at him. "I'd no idea where I'd get one!"

"I've been hanging onto it for a while," he shrugged. "Since just after we met. Waiting for the right time to give it to you," he shrugged. "Took a while, but I finally found the perfect girl, eh?" he rubbed the back of his neck as she beamed up at him.

"Thank you Frank," she whispered as he pressed the coin into her offered hand. "I've something for you too, which is why I knocked just now. She held up the handkerchief that she'd made.

"It's my 'something new', made from a bit of parachute silk that was left over," she explained.

"But I want you to carry it for me, as I know that you'll keep it safe for me, Frank. Just like you've kept me safe ever since we first met. Even if I didn't realise or appreciate all you did for me at the time. Before we were a proper couple." She pressed the new handkerchief into his hands. 

"I'll take good care of it for you, love," he folded the scrap of material up carefully and kissed it. Placing it on his bedside table. Then he pulled her in for a deep, tongue tangling kiss. 

They were interrupted by Mrs Jones shouting that dinner was ready from downstairs. _Which was probably just as well she thought…_ Their kissing had become rather _heated_ of late… 

-

Mrs Jones gave her a blue ribbon and told her to tie it round the top of her leg. 

"For luck, Iris. Not that you need any. Not with the way that Frank _looks_ at you… You'll not be needing any luck in _that_ department," she offered Iris a knowing wink, laughing at Iris's heated face and giggles.

-

She had borrowed a pair of shoes from one of the other married girls and would be wearing her mother's old earrings that she sent her in the post. It was sent along with a letter apologising for not being able to attend as three of her youngest currently had chickenpox. She frowned and had crumpled the letter up angrily. She knew it was probably an excuse for her new boyfriend not letting her come. She'd cried into Frank's shoulder that night when she'd shown him the stupid letter. 

"Don't worry, love. We'll soon have a lovely little family of our own, eh?"

She offered him a watery smile, nodding her head happily at him. 

"Just you think on how much fun we'll have making that family, eh love?" he grinned at her wickedly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean... Come on... Who _WOULDN'T_ be infatuated with the gorgeous Paul Ritter's hairy chest! Heeheeheehee... ;0)

**Author's Note:**

> I watched this series and was absolutely delighted in, what I thought anyway, was a beautiful ship - teased all the way through the series for these two characters. But, alas, imagine my disappointment when absolutely nothing romantic happened...!
> 
> And, also alas, after searching and searching, I found nothing anywhere fan-wise apart from some YouTube videos for this ship. 
> 
> So I rolled my sleeves up and decided to write something myself! 
> 
> There is an age gap in this relationship. Frank is 40odd and Iris in her early 20s. So if that's not your thing, please leave it be. 
> 
> Set on a UK farm during WW2. Not my characters. Apart from the ones that are.
> 
> Please note that Paul Ritter is the brilliant actor who plays Frank Tucker. As well as being an amazing screen and stage actor, (see the Chernobyl Sky TV series), he also does comedy, hilariously - see 'Friday Night Dinner' (a UK TV Series on Channel 4). His character in that show, the dad Martin Goodman, is an absolute legend and is my icon on here.


End file.
